


The Monsters Without

by Carukia



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Altered level of consciousness, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Death, Family deaths, Freewood - Freeform, Left 4 Dead AU, M/M, PTSD, Zombies, possible trigger warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-02-09 00:03:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 39,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1961286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carukia/pseuds/Carukia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CEDA was calling it the Green Flu. The public was calling it the Infection. Years from now, Gavin won't remember it as either. He'll just remember it as the time his entire world went to hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Roads

**Author's Note:**

> So, this all started because Gavin said that he would take Ryan with him into a zombie apocalypse. Picking one from a video game just seemed obvious.
> 
> I have no set posting schedule for this, nor do I know how long it will go.The entire plot is already planned out, and it's just getting these two losers there that is the problem, now. I'm 14,000+ words in to the whole thing - and I'd like to start you out with just these 3,500.
> 
> Title is from the name of the song in L4D(2) which plays after you reach the safe room.
> 
> ((Forgive me - this is a story I consider plotty, but you'll likely disagree. You may just find it very dull and long-winded. It's certainly the biggest fic I've ever written, and it's the only one I've ever posted as multiple chapters. Let's do this together.))

Gavin barely remembers that first news report. It had seemed so unimportant at the time, that a virus was spreading in livestock on the East Coast. Sure, some people had reason to worry, but they were farmers, it absolutely didn’t affect Gavin. The only reason he remembers anything about it at all is because Griffon had been uncharacteristically concerned, her lips pressing together in a thin line while she watched the story over her coffee. She and Geoff had exchanged murmured words, and Geoff had stroked her forearm softly, smiling and telling her it was nothing. Then he and Gavin had gone to work, and nothing much more had been said about it.

It all changed pretty quickly. Suddenly, people were getting sick in Philadelphia, some new strain of flu according to CEDA, and entire cities were being quarantined. The internet was exploding with the news, and Geoff was immediately not that unconcerned any more. The first time footage had appeared online of infected people attacking others on Philadelphian streets, Geoff had gone out and come back with guns, and had started showing Gavin how to hold and use them. Gavin never figured out what prompted Geoff to do it, for years he’d been saying how much he _hated_ guns, wouldn’t touch them if he ever had the option, but Gavin was glad for it in the end.

In just two weeks, the news reports were cut off. Gavin realised that there was no way this was just a flu, no matter how much CEDA insisted. Philadelphia was completely overrun with infected, and CEDA kept talking about safe rooms and evacuation points. There were small pockets of survivors, and enough generators to keep powering communications just long enough for desperate messages to be sent out online. CEDA was calling it the Green Flu. The public was calling it the Infection. Whatever it was, it was spreading west and south, fast.

Two days after the last news report aired, military jets took off from Austin and screamed towards the East Coast. Only hours later, footage surfaced showing those same jets bombing airports. Evacuation centres were taken by the Infected, and in just a few more short days, the Infection had reached Georgia. Geoff armed people at work. Matt and Burnie told people not to come in until the Flu had passed. Gavin was pretty sure at that point that it wasn’t going to pass, at least for not a very long time.

The military held a press conference another few days later, and it had full coverage on every channel. CEDA had failed to control the Green Flu, they said. The Infection had spread quickly across the East Coast, it had overrun the blockades CEDA had set up, crossed fronts that were claimed to be uncrossable. The military was taking over their bases and operations. Gavin glanced at Geoff, who was shaking his head. “They can’t do dick,” he muttered, and that was when Gavin realised this was it, this was the end.

When the evacuation point in New Orleans was taken by the Infection, when military jets bombed Veterans Memorial Bridge, Gavin realised it was too close. Geoff decided they were running, now. Of course, everyone decided that.

Barbara had family in Canada, and by all reports the Infection hadn’t breached the border. She was taking half the company up there with her. Gus was going to Mexico, and more of the company was going with him.

“Where are we going?” Gavin asked. Geoff clapped one hand on his shoulder, and one on Griffon’s.

“We,” he said grimly, “are taking my greatest mistakes, and going to England.” So the Achievement Hunters had gathered together at Geoff’s house, and Geoff had left the room to call Austin-Bergstrom to book them all flights. He’d come back only a minute later, frowning, his brow heavily lined.

“Nothing is flying out,” he’d told them all. “The airports are shutting down to stop the Infection spreading. There are a few flights heading out of the West Coast over the next few days, so that’s what we’re going to head for.”

And that’s how Gavin ends up here, standing with his friends in Geoff’s living room, stuck between the rock of the Infected behind them and the hard place of the shut-down airports in front of them.

“We’ll need supplies. Guns, food, water, gas,” Geoff lists off. “Everyone cool with this?”

Michael is pale, and it’s clear he hasn’t been eating. His hand is tightly held in Lindsay’s, who is standing ramrod straight beside him with her other arm linked in Ray’s. Michael’s family haven’t been heard from in weeks. Gavin knows everyone has tried to be hopeful, but New Jersey is gone, there’s no one left. Michael’s only family is standing right here.

Ray is utterly destroyed. New York is gone, too. He had at least heard from his family, heard it was bad but that they were alright. The next day the military had bombed New York to the ground, trying to stop the Infection there. He hasn’t heard from them since. Everything Ray had ever done was for his family, and losing them has broken him. He follows Lindsay’s gentle orders, and walks around with her and Michael.

Lindsay holds herself tall and brave for all of them. She squeezes Michael’s hand even tighter, and says back to Geoff, “We’ll come with you part of the way, but then we’re going south, and trying to get to Australia. Keep well away from it all. I’m taking Ray with us.”

Geoff frowns. “Are you sure?”

Lindsay laughs, but it’s forced like everyone else’s interactions. “Yeah, Geoff. You know me.” He does. They all do. Lindsay is strong, and Gavin is certain she’ll get them all there. So Geoff nods, and looks around at everyone else.

Jack shrugs. “I’m with you, Geoff. We’ve come this far together, might as well go the rest of the way as well.” Geoff pats his shoulder and smiles.

Ryan smiles, but it doesn’t touch his eyes, and Gavin thinks the show of teeth on his face is completely wrong without the humour in there to match it. He misses that. “I’ve got nowhere better to go, at this stage,” Ryan says. “I’ll follow you.”

Geoff nods. “You two don’t have a choice,” he says to Griffon and Gavin, and there are no complaints there. Gavin wouldn’t go anywhere without them, and going back to the UK sounds like the best option to him. “So, supplies,” Geoff repeats, and the team breaks to start packing. It turns out Geoff has been stockpiling for the three weeks the Infection has been spreading. He passes out guns, hands a semi-automatic carbine to Gavin. Gavin balances it in his hands, feels the weight of it, and realises _shite, this is it, isn’t it?_

He checks the safety is on, and slings it over his shoulder to have it join his backpack, and to take a box of food Ryan hands him to put in the car. At some point in the last few weeks, Griffon had bought an eight-seater, and Gavin hadn’t understood why. He does now, and the back is open for supplies. Everyone is nervous, and the work is done with few words exchanged. Finally Geoff ushers them out of the house. Gavin watches him lock the front door, before his shoulders sag and Griffon gently reproaches him. “I know,” he murmurs to her, and Gavin only just hears as he helps Lindsay get Michael and Ray into the car, and passes her the baseball bat she’s decided to take. “I know. It’s habit, and I just... I like to hope.”

He’s squished into a row between Jack and Ryan in the car, with his backpack balanced on his thighs and carbine between his knees, pointing down to his toes. Jack is staring out the window, but Gavin catches Ryan’s eyes, and the gent smiles in what Gavin thinks is meant to be a reassuring gesture. Geoff climbs in behind the wheel and glances over his shoulder at them all. He has a genuine smile on his face now, the only one out of all of them, and the relief of having them all there and getting them out, finally, is evident in the loose grip on the wheel, the spark in his eyes. “Alright, dickheads,” he says, and Gavin manages to smile back at that, “Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

They were ready, they were prepared, they did everything that logic told them they should do. But when Geoff turns the car onto the highway after a smooth drive through the main city, it becomes painfully obvious that everyone in Austin has had the same idea. The road is full, at a complete standstill. The air is thick with fumes and honking, with people shouting and fighting. “Fuck,” Jack says next to him. “We really should have seen this coming.”

Geoff’s relief and humour is short-lived, and he’s back to grim in seconds. “Right,” he grunts. “This isn’t going to get us anywhere. Could be hours in one spot. We don’t have time.” He squeezes Griffon’s hand and turns to look at everyone again. “Bail out. We’ve got one hell of a walk in front of us.”

Lindsay looks stricken, and Geoff frowns. “I know, kid, I know. But we’ll all be there to get you three through this, okay?” Everyone clambers out of the car. “Do _not_ give people our shit. Don’t look at them, don’t talk to them. Prioritise water. Leave the gas.” There are other people on the highway leaving their cars, too, but they’re by far the minority. Griffon opens the storage of the car and they fill their backpacks. Jack pulls out a box of tinned food and rests it on his hip, Ryan grabs another. Geoff goes to do the same, and Gavin surprises himself when he steps forward to stop him.

“You’re going to need to trade out with these two, Geoff. We can’t carry everything. We’ll find stores all over the gaff on the way.” Geoff hesitates, but concedes. He takes lighters and matches and shoves them into his coat pockets instead, and helps Lindsay and Griffon put tins in Michael’s backpack.

“Listen up,” he says, zipping up Ray’s coat for him. “We’re going to follow the 71 out of here, then change to the 29 and the 190. There’s heaps of water on the way, and enough places to stop for food if we have to, Gav’s right. I don’t want us on the actual roads after we get out of the city. We look out for each other, we get to the Border for Lindsay and the lads, and then we head to San Diego or something. If the roads clear up further out we can find a car somewhere, but otherwise we’re keeping to a cracking pace, got it?”

The group nods. “Good. Let’s go.”

Gavin doesn’t really know how, but they reach the 71 without issue. It’s just as full of cars, just as full of angry people trying to leave, trying to run, passing through Austin on their way from more eastern Texan cities. The city behind them is filling up too, and the more cars they pass, the more people start getting the same idea and leaving their cars to walk. This group walks in silence, and Geoff leads them off the highway to trek through light forest the second the residences thin out. They pass close to Austin Zoo after about four hours, and Geoff pulls them up near a habitat reserve about thirty minutes after that.

“Twenty minutes, guys. Have a break.”

Gavin sinks to the ground gratefully. His entire body already aches. He can still hear the honking from the highway, has heard that honking for the whole time they’ve been walking, and he’s sick of it. He’s grateful, though, that Geoff has them walking, because it’s more than likely they’d still be back exactly where they started, otherwise. He glances around the group.

Griffon is sat with her back to Geoff’s chest. They’re both hard-faced, but tougher than nails. They’ll get through this better than anyone else, Gavin knows that. Jack is lying on his back, eyes closed. He doesn’t appear to be having too hard a time of it yet, either. Michael is shaking, and Lindsay is patiently handing him crackers, which he’s eating slowly. Ray is leaning against her side. He still looks shattered, and Gavin doesn’t think that’s going to change before the three of them peel off to go through Mexico. And then Ryan, who is lowering himself to sit beside Gavin.

He tries to smile and greet him cheerfully. “Hello, lovely Ryan,” Gavin says, but it sounds flat even to his own ears. That is bloody miserable, too, because Gavin prides himself on talking to Ryan as though there are no hidden emotions flurrying under his skin, he’s relied on it for months. Ryan still smiles back, but it’s just as forced.

“How are you doing?” he asks, setting down the box of food next to him.

“Alright,” Gavin answers. “Don’t really have a choice, do I?” Ryan hums in agreement, and no one says anything else until Geoff is standing up and dusting off his jeans and telling them it’s time to get moving again. And they do, because Gavin is right, they don’t have a choice.

And that’s how it is, for the next day and a half. They walk for four or five hours, they stop for a quick break, and they do it again. Geoff stops them about an hour after sunset, when they find somewhere to take shelter, and they eat, and organise a guard schedule, and then sleep. Geoff wakes them just before sunrise to eat again and pack up, and then the cycle continues.

It’s that second day when Gavin notices the honking has stopped. He’s been walking next to Ryan, playing stupid word games and talking about meaningless things that they see along the way, and even though the situation is complete bollocks, the walking doesn’t feel so bad with Ryan to talk to. Every now and then Lindsay chimes in, or Geoff laughs at them, or Griffon looks back at Gavin with such pride in her eyes that Gavin has to look away, and he thinks that’s helping moods a bit.

Ryan is telling him some utter shite about a species of tree that they’d passed awhile back when Gavin notices the quiet from the highway. “Geoff!” he squawks, cutting Ryan off completely. “The cars, they’re not--” Geoff looks up in the direction of the road like he’s only just realised it, too.

“Huh. Do you two want to go check that out for us?”

Ryan shrugs and nods, and he and Gavin break off to trek to the road. Gavin expects to hear engines running, tires on the loose gravel atop the tarmac, anything, but instead there’s nothing. He and Ryan climb over a ridge to look down at the road, and there’s not a car to be seen. “What the?” Ryan breathes. Gavin unhitches his carbine from his shoulder, and holds it carefully in sweaty palms.

“Where’d they go?” he asks. Ryan shakes his head.

“I don’t know. Let’s go tell Geoff.” They slide back down and hurry back the way they came. “It’s empty,” Ryan reports when they return to the group.

“Completely,” Gavin adds. “There’s nothing there.”

Geoff frowns. “We passed a town a few hours ago, people might be diverting there.” He scratches under his moustache.

“Or,” Jack says, hesitating. “Or the...the Infection has caught up.”

“In two days?” Lindsay blurts.

“It took the East Coast in less than two weeks,” he replies. “It wouldn’t surprise me at all if it travelled to halfway across Texas in two days.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Geoff says, cutting them off. “If the road is clear, we’ll stick to it. We might find an abandoned car somewhere.”

Gavin replaces his carbine over his shoulder. He doesn’t speak, he just nods and picks up one of the food boxes before Ryan can get to it, and then starts back for the road. Miraculously, the group follows him. They climb down over the ridge and hit the edge of the tarmac. “Stay off the bloody road,” Gavin growls when Ryan goes to walk on it. “I don’t want us getting cabbaged if someone _does_ come along.”

Ryan laughs a little and holds up his palms towards Gavin. “Alright, alright.”

“Come on, assholes, let’s go,” Geoff says, starting down the road side and once again assuming the lead. Gavin is happy to give it. He falls into step next to Ryan, who grins at him, and Gavin can’t help but smile back, his stomach performing a proud little flip. The group quietens into a comfortable silence but for the sounds of their breathing and the crunch of dirt and gravel and dried leaves beneath their feet.

An hour or two later, Ryan laughs, completely out of the blue. “Cabbaged?”

“Christ,” Geoff mutters, and Lindsay chuckles, and miracle of miracles, Michael’s head lifts a little and he actually meets Gavin’s eyes. And it makes Gavin smile so wide that he launches into a completely false explanation that just makes Ryan playfully argue with him and Griffon grab him round the shoulders and kiss the top of his head.

And spirits are easily the highest they’ve been for the whole trip when, just as the sun is setting, Jack stops everyone by pointing across the road to a dirt driveway, where a station wagon is sitting with both its front doors open.

“Griff, stay here with these guys. Jack and I will check it out,” Geoff says, and the two men gingerly walk towards it. Geoff checks behind the seats and Jack checks under the car and pops the trunk open to look in there, too. The keys must be in the ignition, because suddenly the car is starting up and Geoff is laughing. He waves them all over. “Got about a half tank of gas in it, should get us a few hours of driving at least. Enough to take us past a gas station,” he says while everyone loads up the back with their supplies.

Ryan frowns. “How are we all going to fit, Geoff?”

Geoff shrugs. “Couple of you can sit in the back with the supplies. We’ll rotate out every now and then. It’s not ideal, I know, but it’s going to save us days of walking.”

“I’ll go in the back, I don’t mind,” Gavin says, walking around to the back door.

Ryan shrugs too. “Alright. It’ll be tight, but I’ll do it first too.”

Gavin grins. “That’s the spirit, lovely Ryan.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Ryan snorts, and he gently shoves Gavin in. Jack helps Lindsay buckle Ray and Michael in the back seats, and only argues for a few moments when Lindsay goes to climb in the back with the supplies, too. She curls up next to Gavin and he seeks out her hand to squeeze reassuringly. He stretches out his legs to balance them on Ryan’s, and tries not to stare when he sees Ryan’s bizarre little smile out the corner of his mouth while he looks out the window next to him.

The doors all close and Geoff clips on his seatbelt and pulls the car back onto the road.

About an hour later, they find a gas station. There are no people around, but there’s a sign on the door. _Closed. Take the gas before the Infection takes you_. Griffon frowns at it and shakes her head.

“At least the gas is free,” Jack jokes. Geoff strains a smile at that and goes to fill up the tank while the others go into the store to pull extra food and water bottles off the shelves. Griffon takes over driving, and Geoff climbs in the back with Lindsay and Michael. Gavin stretches just outside the car, purposely taking his time just to annoy them, and Ryan finally gets so sick of it that he picks Gavin up around the waist and tosses him into the middle of the back seat next to Ray. Gavin squawks and flails as Ryan climbs in next to him, and spends the next hour sulking in silence before he falls asleep.

He wakes up when it’s well and truly dark, and as he comes to he realises his face is flat against Ryan’s chest, and Ryan’s nose is snoring softly on the top of his head. Gavin blushes bright red and jerks away. “Bloody hell!” he whispers, and the sudden jolt of him pulling away rouses Ryan too. Griffon is smiling in the rear view mirror in a way that seems far too knowing for Gavin’s liking.

“Been asleep for four hours, kid,” she murmurs, and Gavin shakes his head and leans away from Ryan in what he hopes isn’t too obvious a way. By Griffon’s eye roll, and Geoff’s snort behind him, it is.

“Michael spoke earlier,” Lindsay tells him, interrupting his mortified thought train, and Gavin’s head whips around to stare at her. She looks so proud, brighter than she’s looked in days.

Gavin grins and says, “That’s my boy!”

Later, much later, Gavin will pinpoint this as the exact moment when things really started to go to hell.


	2. The Border

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was inevitable, Gavin knew, that their little group would eventually break apart. It's a bloody good thing Ryan proves to be a constant distraction.

The car stutters, and dies. Griffon curses and turns the key in the ignition again. The engine turns over but doesn’t catch. She tries a few times, curses again, and hits the steering wheel.

“Fuck,” Geoff mutters. “God fucking damn it.”

“Hey,” Jack says from the front passenger seat. “We’re about two and a half days walk from the border at this point. It’s not ideal, but it’s not unmanageable. And we might find another car.”

“He’s right, hon,” Griffon says, opening the car door. “We don’t have much choice.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Geoff answers, but he sounds completely unimpressed. “Alright, everyone out. Back to it.”

It’s slow going. The road is a roundabout way to get to the border so in a car, yeah, they would be fine, but on foot? No way, that adds hours. With no other option the group starts heading almost due west, off road, across rocky earth littered with shrubs and short trees. With fall clouds covering the sky it’s almost too dark to see, and more than once someone trips on a hidden obstacle.

Gavin feels awkward. He’s stopped walking next to Ryan, and Ryan has noticed. He keeps shooting confused glances at him, and the tension is increasing. The others are starting to figure out something is off as well, but Gavin doesn’t want to say anything for fear someone will ask something he won’t want to give the answer to.

Now is not the time for what he’s feeling. Before all this, before the Flu, Gavin let himself entertain ideas, fantasies. He’d have never acted on them, never in a million years because Ryan _works with him_ , but he liked to imagine. Ryan... Ryan is a good looking guy. Gavin likes Ryan, likes spending time with him and talking to him; their humour plays off each other well, and Gavin enjoys that. Gavin liked to imagine that they would also have a lot of fun sans clothing. But they were _just fantasies_.

Gavin shoves his hands into his pockets and speeds up his pace to walk beside Geoff in front. At this point he’ll do anything to stop seeing the looks Ryan keeps throwing him, anything to stop feeling guilty about it.

The problem had been that the more Gavin had thought about it, the more he’d wanted something, _anything_ with Ryan. He’d had shivers when Ryan spoke to him. He’d had to fight down blushes when they joked with each other, or someone joked about them. He’d kicked himself over and over when he leapt at every chance to team up in games, or to ask Ryan dumb questions, or to play a prank on him. In the end, he’d had one or two desperate wank sessions in the hopes that it would get him over it, but it hadn’t even taken the edge off.

And now? Now is _really_ not the time, out here on the run from, despite how much of a clichéd stupid thing it is to say, what is basically a zombie apocalypse. So Gavin can’t even entertain these thoughts, not now, and not ever again.

Gavin is exhausted by sunrise, mentally and physically. The last break did nothing for him, and regardless of the few hours of respite in the car, they’ve been walking for days. His feet are dragging, and he’s not looking where he’s going, and he’s lagging behind the group a little. And that’s why it’s such a surprise when he looks up and movement on his left ends up slamming into him and crashing him to the ground.

He yells, and something is screeching above him and pulling at his coat. He hears Griffon scream his name, and then he hears a gunshot crack near him and the weight on him falls silent and lurches to his side. Hands are pulling him away and to his feet, and suddenly Geoff’s arms are around him and pulling him close, and Gavin is hyperventilating and trying to look at what attacked him. He’s so startled he actually feels terrified tears leak through onto Geoff’s shoulder. When he finally twists his head enough to look, he sees a corpse on the ground where he had been. His eyes go wide as Geoff pulls away just enough to check him over.

“Are you okay? Did it hurt you, break skin?”

Gavin shakes his head desperately. “Shitting _hell_. No, no, it didn’t. It came out of bloody nowhere!” Griffon takes him up, then, pulls him out of Geoff’s arms to hold him close as well.

“Geoff,” Ryan says, slowly. “It’s reached us, it’s faster than we are.”

Geoff pales, and Gavin marvels that the man is able to keep it together at all. “Right. Let’s keep moving. Everyone keep an eye out. If you see any more, or if you see any buildings we might be able to rest in, let us all know.”

Griffon reluctantly lets Gavin go, but Geoff slings an arm over his shoulder to keep him close. Gavin lets it happen. He’s shaken, he won’t lie, but at least now he’s wide awake again.

They barely walk half a mile before they see another Infected, at least far enough away this time that it doesn’t seem concerned with them. But the more they walk, the more they encounter, and the closer the Infected get until they’re actually fighting them off with reasonable regularity.

Jack keeps Ray and Michael close to him, and Lindsay surprises them all with her ferocity in swinging her baseball bat. Gavin manages to hit one or two in the head with the butt of his carbine, but Geoff and Ryan are having none of that, and any Infected that get past everyone else gets an unremorseful bullet to the head.

It’s even slower going, now, having to stop every couple of hundred yards to fight off more walking corpses, but at long last, with the sun low in the sky, Lindsay points and says, “House!”

“Great,” Geoff answers, sounding relieved, and he leads them towards it. The closer they get the more obvious it becomes that this is really just a large shed, but it has a roof and a door that locks, and that’s good enough for now. It’s empty, and it’s clear it hasn’t been used in a while, so they move in and shut the door, and barricade it with some old metal drums that are by the wall.

There’s easily enough space for them to all lie down at once, but Jack organises a guard roster while they’re eating, a mix of tinned tuna and beans with the last of their crackers. Geoff’s phone is the last to die, and it blinks out as Gavin takes his spot by the door to keep the first guard shift. “Shit on my dick,” Geoff curses, and Gavin surprises himself when he laughs. He hears a few muffled snorts from the group in return, and finally Geoff gives an exasperated sigh.

“Thanks, assholes,” he mutters, but it’s not without humour. For a brief moment, it feels like the old days.

Gavin pulls his coat tighter around himself and hunches his shoulders to keep warm. He keeps his carbine loosely in his hands, in a resting position, and waits. Slowly, he hears people fall asleep behind him.

It’s about two hours later that he moves and goes to wake Geoff for the next shift. It’s a cloudless night, and moonlight streaming through small cracks in the walls have helped his eyes adjust to the dim. He steps over Ray to kneel by Geoff’s side and gently touch his shoulder. Geoff wakes up too quickly and starts coughing, curling in on himself to try and keep it quiet.

“You okay?” Gavin asks, and Geoff nods and sits up.

“Yeah, buddy,” he whispers. “You just surprised me, and it’s cold as dicks in here.” Gavin smiles, and lays down in Geoff’s place when he moves. “Sleep well, kid.”

And he does. He falls to sleep almost instantly and doesn’t stir again until Ryan is shaking him awake at dawn. Jack surprises them with cookies to eat with their breakfast granola bars, and it gives Gavin an excuse to move away from Ryan without shaking him off. “Grabbed them at the gas station,” Jack tells them. “I know they’re not practical, but I thought it’d be nice.” They are. Gavin shoves one in his pocket for later.

The cold night is a prelude to a similarly cold day, and hands are buried in pockets or tucked in sleeves as they walk. Lindsay gives one of her gloves to Michael and the other to Ray, and walks in between them with her own fingers tangled in theirs. “Thanks,” Gavin hears Michael whisper, voice cracking, and that’s reassuring enough to really start everyone’s day on a positive note.

The rocks and shrubs give way to wide open salt flats, but at least the change of scenery brings with it a serious decrease in the number of Infected they see. Gavin doesn’t know how these Infected have gotten out here anyway, there’s basically no civilisation around for miles. They’re back onto rocks and dirt again when they finally reach another highway, and there, like a beacon, is a road sign. _El Paso, 85 miles_.

“That’s the one,” Griffon grins. “About a day’s walk, hon?”

Geoff nods. “Should be at the border by noon tomorrow, if we don’t stop too long anywhere.”

Lindsay perks up even more at this news. Gavin can see this journey is tiring her, and he can’t help but marvel at how she’s been keeping it together. Certainly better than him, that’s for damn sure.

Ryan tries to banter with him as they start following the road, telling him that the landscape is deader than his mind. Normally it would prompt Gavin to faff about, a quick and less-than-witty reply almost always prepared, but now Gavin just fakes a smile and looks down at his feet, and Ryan doesn’t try again.

They pass dozens of small dried up creek beds crisscrossing with the road, and when they finally find a running one down a slope off the road, and the first set of actual trees they’ve seen in a long time, Gavin actually perks up and whoops. “Geoff,” he proclaims, “I’m going to go fill a water bottle or two.”

Geoff hesitates, and his mouth forms a thin line. “Yeah, alright,” he finally says. “Take someone with you, though.”

“I’ll go,” Ryan says, and Gavin only just stops himself from twisting his mouth into a frown. “I’m carrying some empty ones I can fill for everyone.”

“Sounds good,” Geoff replies. “We can have a quick break here while you two do that. Make it snappy.”

Gavin is already heading down into the trees, and Ryan hurries to catch up. They’re both crouched down letting water flow into the bottles when Ryan asks, “So, what’s wrong?” He sounds concerned, and when Gavin glances over at him, he can see Ryan’s brow is furrowed.

Gavin shrugs. “You mean other than this whole smegpot of a situation?”

“I mean, you stopped talking to me when we got out of that car. Straight up started ignoring me. What’s the deal with that?”

“Nah, I haven’t been doing that.” Lie. “Just haven’t felt like talking much at all.” Lie. He stands up and replaces the lids on the bottles.

“Well, why?” Ryan presses. “Did something happen? Did _I_ say something to upset you, or...?”

“It’s nothing. Drop it.”

“Gavin...”

“I said _drop it_ , Ryan. Nothing is wrong, bloody hell. Just leave it, piss off.”

Ryan reaches out and grabs his forearm to spin him and bring them face to face. “ _Gavin_ , come _on_.”

And Gavin loses it. He drops the water bottles and steps forward, close, and grabs Ryan’s coat with one hand, and crushes their lips together, eyes squeezed tight. For an eternity, Ryan doesn’t respond, and when he finally moves, it’s a surprised twitch that makes Gavin jump back.

“I’m sorry!” Gavin gasps. “Bloody hell, I’ve lost my damn mind. I didn’t mean—This is _really_ not the time or place to--- _Bloody hell_!” And Ryan’s eyes are wide and his lips ever so slightly parted in shock. Then, while Gavin just stares, he crouches to drop his bottle to the ground as well, and pulls Gavin back in with a hand flat on the back of his neck, fingers buried in the hair at his nape.

They’re kissing again and it’s better, it’s so much better, because this is _Ryan_ kissing _him_ and there’s desperate tongues and teeth involved, and Ryan’s hand on his waist and Ryan’s hips under his fingers, and it’s warm and wonderful before Ryan ruins it when he reluctantly pulls away.

“You had me worried, Gav,” Ryan murmurs against his forehead. “Jesus.”

“That’s--” Gavin’s voice cracks and he clears his throat. “That’s because I’m a toe-rag,” he manages as he leans in again for more.

Ryan actually _groans_ when he gently pushes Gavin away to keep him at arm’s length. “You’re not completely wrong, though,” he says. “Sadly not exactly the best circumstances.” Gavin frowns and lets his hands drop from Ryan’s hips. Ryan crouches again to pick up his water bottles.

Gavin follows suit and sighs. “Yeah,” he grudgingly agrees. “Maybe we’ll come across a house? With bedrooms?” And he sounds so stupidly desperate, even to himself, but Ryan just grins and shakes his head as they clamber back up from the river to get back to the group.

“Did you two figure out your shit while you were sucking the river’s dick down there?” Geoff asks, accepting a water bottle to put in his own backpack.

“Sod off,” Gavin answers, but he can’t quite keep the smile from his face.

* * *

 

 

Gavin can’t decide if it’s banter that starts up again when they’re not fending off the occasional Infected, or whether it’s really terrible flirting. He slams his carbine into one Infected and it crumples. He snorts, and looks around the group, grinning as he flings his gun back over his shoulder. “Don’t get too cocky,” Ryan smirks. “Normally you hit them like a little bitch.”

“Oi!” Gavin laughs. “Don’t be an arse.”

Ryan shrugs and saunters away from him. “Calling them like I see them.”

Geoff sighs from somewhere in front of them, and Gavin can’t tell whether he’d prefer they go back to strained silence and brooding or not. Gavin’s mouth twists and he bites his lip, then crouches to pick up a small stone. He flicks it at Ryan, it hits him gently on the shoulder, and he stops mid-step.

“Gavin,” Geoff groans as Ryan slowly turns around. Then Ryan drops his backpack and his rifle, and Geoff spits, “ _Ryan!_ ”, and Gavin’s laughing turns to squawking as Ryan charges at him and Gavin has to run.

“Get back here, you asses!” Jack calls after them, but Gavin’s laughing and running and Ryan is laughing and running with playful murder in his eyes, and for a few moments Gavin can forget the danger they’re in and how tired they are and how _cold_ it’s getting and how long this is going to take.

Then Ryan catches up to him and plucks him off his feet with an arm around his waist, and suddenly they’re in the dirt and Ryan is jabbing him in all the soft spots of his belly and arms. “You wanna go, Gav? You wanna go?” Ryan is taunting, grinning down at him while Gavin wriggles and squeaks and laughs.

“No! _No!_ Ryan, I don’t, ha, stop!” But then Gavin lurches up to try and escape and hips crush against hips, and Gavin drops back down and freezes at exactly the same time that Ryan seizes up, and at the moment Geoff finishes jogging over to them, the rest of the group trailing behind.

“You fucking _idiots_ ,” Geoff snarls, shoving Ryan to the side none-too-gently with his boot, and dumping his pack and gun on his stomach. Ryan breathes a soft _oof_ and Gavin flushes bright red and wriggles to get back to his feet. “You absolute fucking _idiots_. This isn’t a _fucking joke anymore_. There are Infected _everywhere_ and we still have a long-ass way to go, you can’t just run off like that, and you _definitely_ can’t do it without your fucking gear!”

Ryan crawls to his feet as well and at least as the decency to look ashamed. “There’s a difference between you two fucking around with words and jokes,” Geoff continues, and Gavin doesn’t even try to stop him. “But I swear to Christ Almighty if either of you does something so monumentally _stupid_ ever again, I’ll put the bullet in you myself, because fuck knows it’ll be quicker. You get it?”

Ryan nods, and Gavin nods and kicks the dirt, and that doesn’t help. Geoff points at him. “Don’t be a petulant fucking child, Gavin. And _you_ ,” Geoff snarls again, and turns his withering gaze to Ryan. “ _You especially_ I expected more of. Never, _ever_ , do that again.”

The others reach them as Geoff remembers to breathe, and cold air catches in his throat and he leans over, coughing. Griffon rubs his back and frowns at Gavin and Ryan, and in a way that’s even worse, Griffon’s silent disappointment.

“I’m sorry, Geoff,” Ryan murmurs.

“You’re damn right you are,” Geoff gasps back, before he manages to catch his breath and stand back up. “Now if you’re done being stupider than a bag of dicks, can we move the fuck on?”

So they continue west, falling into an uncomfortable silence, because Gavin doesn’t want to say something so soon that might piss Geoff off even more. Instead, he and Ryan walk next to each other, occasionally bumping shoulders.

The ground starts getting hilly just as the sun goes down, and about an hour later, feet dragging, Gavin can’t stand it anymore.

“Geoff,” he says. “I’m spackered. We’ve gotta take a break.”

Geoff shakes his head, but his breathing is laboured too. “Can’t. We’re close, but not close enough.”

“Hon,” Griffon answers. “An hour, that’s it. We can sleep when we hit the border, sure, but we’ll drop if we keep going, and god help us if we’re attacked.” Geoff visibly hesitates, then turns to look at everyone. Lindsay is still standing by sheer force of will, dragging Michael behind her. Jack’s piggy-backing Ray, Ryan carrying his pack for him.

Geoff sighs, and nods. “Alright. One hour.” People drop. Gavin slides down to lean on Ryan’s side, and doesn’t hear any complaints. Rather, Ryan is smiling ever so slightly when Gavin flicks his eyes to the side to check.

The rest gives everyone a chance to eat properly, to catch their breath and lean back. There are no clouds, but it’s been such a cold fall that Gavin can’t enjoy the stars. He huddles into his coat, sniffs his runny nose, and then lurches further sideways as Ryan’s arm curls around him and keeps him close. It’s a little warmer, not by much, but it’s kind of sweet and even though Gavin doesn’t really go for that, he lets Ryan have it, and he smiles despite himself.

Then eventually, Geoff is standing up and everyone follows suit, and they’re back following the road. Gavin is well and truly sick of seeing that bloody tarmac stretching along his right. _Tomorrow by noon_ , he starts thinking over and over to himself. _It’ll get easier tomorrow by noon_.

  

* * *

 

 

It turns out Geoff was pretty much spot on. Just as the sun is hitting the exact middle point in its low near-winter arc the next day, a city starts rising on the horizon. Geoff laughs, relieved, and Gavin grins at him. “An hour,” Geoff says. “An hour _tops_.” He slings an arm around Michael’s shoulders and smiles at Lindsay. “Let’s get you to that border.”

Suddenly, they’re not so tired anymore. They pick up the pace, passing cars driving out. Gavin figures the Infection hasn’t properly reached this city yet, despite the Infected they’d had to fight off, because the cars are clearly people evacuating, but they’re not yet panicked.

The city is crowded when they finally, _finally_ reach the border fence, and travel along it to find the gate. People surge around them, leaving the city in every direction but east, and the group finds themselves swept up in it. They’re not the only ones with guns, either, and every now and then a soldier treks past and eyes them up and down, but makes no motion to detain them or take their weapons. It’s late afternoon when they finally reach the border gate, and everyone is surprised to find it abandoned, not a single border guard from either country in sight.

The air is heavy while they stand there, people crossing the bridge in front of them. _This is it_ , Gavin thinks. Their little group is splitting up, finally going their different ways, and Gavin doesn’t know if he’s ever going to see them again. He’s not going to know where they end up, will have no way of tracking them down, and as he looks at them now he realises it’s going to break his heart. These are his friends, his family, and he’s losing them.

He’s about to say something when Jack gets in first. “I’m going with them,” he says, and Geoff’s eyebrows shoot upwards.

“What?”

“I’m going with them,” Jack repeats. “I’ve been thinking about it on the way here.” He gestures to Michael and Ray. “These guys need help,” and he cuts Lindsay off before she can speak with a palm up at her. “If anyone can get them to Australia alone, it’s you, Lindsay. I’m not saying you can’t, I’m not saying that you need my help, but I want to. At least with the two of us we can both get some sleep while the other keeps guard, yeah?”

Lindsay’s face, just moments ago contorted in surprise and anger, softens, and she smiles. “Yeah, Jack. Thanks.” He nods and turns back to Geoff.

“This makes sense. Four and four. I’m sad to leave you guys, but Australia might be good for me. Maybe I’ll settle down in Sydney? Who knows, I might even find a nice girl down there, or something.”

Geoff laughs, but Gavin can see he’s holding back tears. Geoff and Jack have been good friends for years, and Gavin knows it’s going to hurt Geoff to lose him. “You should be so lucky, asshole.”

“You guys should find a place to hole up in before it gets dark,” Lindsay says. “And we should get moving.”

Jack shakes hands, wishes them luck. Gavin holds back tears and wraps his arms around Lindsay to pull her tight. “Please be safe,” he begs. She nods, and he can feel her shaking. “Just...be safe. Travel smart.”

“Yeah, we will, we will,” she whispers, and Gavin pulls away to hold her shoulders at arm’s length.

“If anyone can do this, it’s you. Get my lads to Australia, yeah?” She nods again and he smiles, and turns to Michael. “I’m going to miss you, boy.” Michael’s eyes meet his. “Get better. I’m gonna be all sappy and bollocks, but I love you dearly.”

“Thanks, boy,” Michael rasps, almost too softly to hear, but Gavin clings to those words, will cling to those words forever, and pulls him in to hug him too.

Ray doesn’t say anything, barely even looks at him, but Gavin hugs him as well. “X-Ray and Vav,” he murmurs into Ray’s hair. “I’m going to see you in a bit, once this all blows over. We’re going to take over Australia, it’s going to be top.” He pauses. “I’m going to miss you.”

He even hugs Jack, tells him to keep them all safe. And then he watches while everyone else says their own goodbyes, and steps back to Ryan as four of his best friends turn and walk over the bridge, and get lost in the crowd. The mood is sombre as Griffon and Geoff lead Gavin and Ryan north and west through the city, until the crowd thins out and it gets dark. Then, on the city outskirts, they head into what seems to be a small abandoned hotel. They snag some keys from behind the desk and find the matching set of rooms on the top floor, only three levels above ground.

“Barricade the door,” Geoff tells them after he’s locked it. He goes to check the windows and block the fire escape with a table. There are a few bedside tables across two rooms that Ryan and Gavin stack in front of the door, and kitchen chairs as well. Griffon checks the taps and lights, and Gavin is relieved to know that power is still on in this city, or at least this hotel. The second Geoff announces that the rooms are as secure as they’re going to be, he goes for a shower.

It’s incredible. Dirt comes off him in wet rivulets from places he didn’t even think of. The water is lukewarm, but it’s better than nothing, and he finally emerges feeling like a human again. They take it in turns, and once everyone is showered they all four sit together on the floor eating and drinking from the mini bar. The mood hasn’t lifted by much, but it’s enough. Geoff finds an old road map in one of the stacked bedside tables and draws lines on it, telling them his plans.

“I reckon after all this, San Fran is our best bet for planes outta here,” he tells them. “Worst case scenario, we find a trade ship that’s heading for England and we get on that. Whatever it takes to get us there.” He circles a few places on the map. “There’s a lot of forest land between here and ‘Cisco. A couple of small towns that we’ll be able to use for sleeping. Probably camp sites and cabins, too.” He looks up and smiles reassuringly. “We’ll get there.”

It’s well into the night when Griffon packs the map away. “Come on, hon,” she says. “We have to sleep. You too, boys,” she says.

“Yes ma’am,” Ryan says, despite the fact that they’re barely that far apart in age, really. Then Gavin follows Ryan into the second bedroom, and carefully clicks the door shut, leaning on it with his hands behind his back.

Ryan drops his things on the floor against the wall, and is kicking off his shoes when he notices Gavin grinning at him. He looks confused for a second before he straightens and laughs softly. “Really?”

“Okay, so it’s not a house,” Gavin concedes. “But there _are_ separate bedrooms, and for now there’s nowhere safer than here.”

Ryan glances at the wall separating this bedroom from the other. “Uh...”

“We’ll just have to be quiet, then.” But Ryan still hesitates, so Gavin relaxes against the door a little and his grin softens to a smile. “Alright,” he says. “Never mind. Another time.” He won’t say he’s not disappointed, but if Ryan isn’t interested right now, then that’s that, and Gavin isn’t going to push it. He’s already accidentally nearly bollocksed up their relationship enough times on this journey.

He toes off his own shoes and then hears Ryan mutter, “Fuck it.” His head shoots up and Ryan is striding towards him, then pressing him back further against the door and sliding their lips together.

When they pull apart, Gavin breathes, “Brilliant,” and Ryan pulls him to the bed and pushes him down to crawl over him, lips crushing together again. Ryan leans back to pull his jumper off, too-tight shirt going with it, and Gavin sits up as much as he can with Ryan pinning his hips to do the same, before running shivering hands down Ryan’s chest. It’s everything he had hoped it would be; muscle that Gavin doesn’t quite understand the origin of concealed by pale skin that he absolutely does.

Ryan cranes his neck down as though to kiss Gavin again, then stops and freezes up. “You okay?” Gavin asks.

“Yeah, yeah, I just thought...” Ryan pauses to frown. “We haven’t exactly been to any pharmacies recently, I’m not carrying any condoms or anything,” he whispers back.

Gavin grins and leans forward to nip a red mark into Ryan’s skin. “There’s plenty we can do without one,” he murmurs, and flicks his hips up as much as he can. The slow flush that crawls up Ryan’s neck in response is one of the most satisfying things Gavin has ever experienced, and he grins into it as Ryan kisses him furiously and pushes him back flat on the bed to grind his hips down.

For awhile, that’s what they do. Ryan holds Gavin’s wrists down against the bed next to his head and rolls their hips together, still covered in layers of denim. They pant into each other’s mouths when their tongues aren’t swirling around, and Gavin keeps straining his neck up to get their mouths closer.

Eventually Ryan pulls away, laughing softly. “Keep your head down, I’ll come to you,” he whispers, voice full of mirth.

“Can’t,” Gavin answers. “You’re always too far away.”

“You’re going to hurt your neck.”

“Don’t care.” But Ryan dodges his next kiss and leans down further to nip along his neck, and Gavin groans softly and lets his head fall back, exposing his throat more. “That’s good too,” he moans. “Keep doing that.” And Ryan does.

Gavin feels the soft curls of desperation in his groin, and he keeps aborting little groans and whimpers, cutting them off before they can escape and drift through the walls to the next room. It very quickly becomes not enough, and when Ryan moves up just a bit to gently suck on his earlobe, Gavin rolls his hips upwards and, voice strangled, lets out a desperate whisper. “ _Ryan_.”

Ryan is unforgiving, and reaches down to unzip Gavin’s jeans and wriggle his hand into them, squeezing Gavin’s cock through his briefs. Gavin only just manages to cut off his startled groan by biting his lip, and Ryan thankfully takes pity on him then and pulls back to tug his jeans and briefs off. Gavin’s hands shoot to Ryan’s fly to get it undone and get his hand in there in return, but he’s barely had a chance to touch anything before Ryan is pulling away off the bed to stand up and take his own jeans and underwear off.

Ryan stands there for a few moments, running his eyes up and down Gavin’s body, splayed out on the bed with his cock curving up to his belly. And Gavin is just as appreciative of his view, and can’t help but slide a hand down to wrap around himself, squeezing gently. Ryan’s gaze snaps to predatory in a heartbeat, and that has got to be the hottest bloody thing Gavin has seen in a _really_ long time, Ryan standing there naked and hard and _wanting him_.

So Gavin spreads his legs in what is a clear invitation, and Ryan grins and crawls back over him, sliding their naked cocks together _finally_ , and it’s so much better than Gavin ever imagined it might be. He curls his legs around Ryan’s hips, and Ryan pulls him up so he’s sitting on his lap, groins slotted together. That’s wonderful, and Gavin can only express how wonderful by nipping Ryan’s lower lip and kissing him soundly again, arms curling up behind his neck to keep him close. And when Ryan’s hand slides down and takes both their cocks, encompassing them together, it’s exactly the right kind of pressure and slide that Gavin gasps out, “Sodding _hell_ ,” and Ryan laughs.

“Should have known you’d be mouthy in bed,” he chuckles.

But Gavin has lost all control of his thoughts and only manages to groan and rock his hips up into Ryan’s hand, head falling back to let Ryan suck and lick at his throat again. Somehow, Ryan has exactly the right pace with his hand stroking and his wrist twisting that Gavin’s orgasm slowly, slowly builds, groin growing hotter and hotter while Gavin keeps biting off needy little noises over Ryan’s hot, wet pants against his throat.

The pressure builds to the other side of enough, and Gavin’s breath hitches as his hips rock up once more and he spills over Ryan’s fingers. He can’t pull enough air into his lungs as Ryan gathers everything into his palm to keep stroking, and only a minute or two later grunts, “ _Hnnn_ ,” against Gavin’s jaw and comes as well.

The room is filled with the deep gasping pants of two people trying desperately to catch their breath. Gavin is trembling, and Ryan is pressing gentle close-lipped kisses along his jawline and scratching fingers through his hair. “You okay?” Ryan murmurs eventually, and Gavin nods and hums.

“Yeah. Better than,” he breathes. “You?”

“Yeah,” Ryan repeats.

“Worth it?” Gavin grins. Ryan frowns and holds up his hand, come slowly drying between his fingers.

“Well...” But he’s smiling and Gavin hits him lightly on the upper arm and breathes a laugh, before disentangling himself and rolling off the bed. He winces as he fights to lock his knees beneath him, and wobbles over to the cupboard, searching through it and coming back with a spare pillowcase.

“Here,” he says, and tosses it for Ryan to catch.

Ryan groans. “Gavin, really?”

“Well, no one else is going to bloody use it, are they?” he shrugs, untangling his briefs from his jeans on the floor and pulling them back on. Ryan watches him, and Gavin is certain there’s a shred of disappointment in his gaze.

Ryan hums, eventually, and wipes his hand thoroughly on the pillowcase. He throws it in a corner and goes for his own underwear while Gavin climbs into bed. “I’m, uh, not much of a cuddler,” Gavin admits when Ryan joins him.

“I guessed,” Ryan says, grinning. “I don’t think I could keep you still anyway, you little shit.” Gavin sticks his tongue out. “I really don’t mind, Gav. Whatever you prefer.”

Gavin is legitimately surprised at that. He’d expected disappointment, or an argument, something. Ryan genuinely seems to not mind. “Thanks, Ryan,” he says, and he means it. He pulls the covers up to his chin and curls into a ball on his side, facing the other man. Ryan is straight out on his back, one arm under his head and the other above the cover.

Twenty minutes later, Gavin quietly curses, “ _Sausages!_ ” and moves over to curl into Ryan’s side. Ryan’s arm slips under the covers to curl around Gavin’s back and pull him closer. “It’s cold,” Gavin grumbles stubbornly into Ryan’s chest.

Ryan just chuckles sleepily. “Okay.” He doesn’t say anything more when Gavin hesitantly slides his arm over his stomach to keep him close.

It might be turning to hell in America outside this hotel room, but in this moment in this place, Gavin is feeling pretty damn top. Slowly, his eyes slide shut and he lets himself sleep.


	3. The Tracks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It amazes Gavin that Geoff can be so exhausted that he can barely stay awake to eat, but still find the energy to threaten Ryan with bodily harm in the event Gavin comes out of their change-of-relationship with even slightly hurt feelings. Gavin would find it sweet if this apocalypse had never happened, but really, if anything is going to hurt him it's probably not going to be Ryan.

Gavin wakes when Geoff slams open the door the next morning, covers tangled around his ankles and Ryan draped over him, arms wrapped around his back possessively and hair tickling his cheek. He blinks awake properly and looks over at the door to Geoff, who for the first time in a very long time doesn’t seem to know what to say or where to look. Gavin is just as mortified, but he’s always been one for faking it. “What’s up, Geoff?” he asks, words blurred with sleep.

The sound rouses Ryan as well, who snorts ungracefully as he wakes, and Gavin huffs a laugh into his hair before he can catch himself. The whole scene seems to just confuse and horrify Geoff even more. His eyes widen and he ends up just staring at them, mouth agape. Gavin reaches down and tries to pull up the covers to at least give Ryan some privacy, but they simply get caught and won’t tug up further. Instead, he says as casually as he can manage, “What did you need?”

That seems to do the trick, and pulls Geoff out of his stunned silence. Geoff rolls his eyes and crossed his arms, before looking at Gavin with resigned disapproval. “ _Gavin_ ,” he sighs. “Really? With Griff and I in the next room?”

Gavin rolls his eyes in return. “Well you didn’t hear us, did you? Shut your mingy gob,” he snarks. The talking has fully roused Ryan, now, and he groans and shifts upwards, smiles at Gavin only to realise Gavin is looking over his shoulder, so glances behind himself to investigate. His body stiffens awkwardly when his eyes meet with Geoff’s.

“Uh...”

“We’ll be out in a mo, Geoff,” Gavin says pointedly, and Geoff’s lips press together in thin line, until he nods once, sharply, and backs out of the room and clicks the door closed. Gavin sighs. “Sorry,” he says to Ryan.

Ryan blinks and shakes his head, pink with embarrassment. “No, no, it’s... Uh... It’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting him.” He goes to roll carefully off Gavin, until he catches his eye, and they both burst into chuckles.

“I’m sorry,” Gavin says again, grinning. Ryan shakes his head and leans down to peck kisses and scrape teeth across Gavin’s jaw.

“It’s fine, really,” he murmurs. “I don’t regret a thing.” Gavin’s grin widens, and he’s about to pull Ryan in for a proper kiss and maybe a round two, until Ryan pushes himself away. “But we might if we don’t get out there.”

Gavin sighs heavily, exasperated, as Ryan leaves the bed completely, letting Gavin sit up himself. “Well this is bollocks.”

Ryan laughs, pulling on clothes. “There’ll be other opportunities, Gavin.”

Gavin twists his lips. “Will there?” he asks, and Ryan pauses to look at him, concerned. He pulls on his shirt and goes back to stand by the bed, where Gavin has swung his legs around to sit on the edge, elbows resting on his knees. Ryan tilts his head back and leans over to kiss him gently.

“I’ll make an opportunity if I have to, this wasn’t a one-time deal,” he murmurs, and pulls back. He finds Gavin’s clothes on the floor and tosses them at his head. “Come on.” So Gavin dresses and takes a deep breath before opening the bedroom door and leading Ryan out. Geoff glances at them before pointedly looking away to finish laying out breakfast on the floor they’d sat on the night before.

“You done?” he gruffs, and Griffon frowns and hits him on the upper arm before smiling at Gavin and Ryan.

“Leave them be, dumbass,” she says. “Ignore him, boys. Sit down and eat.” She holds up two mugs. “I found coffee! You boys can have it first.”

Gavin grins, awkwardness forgotten, and takes a steaming mug with him when he slides to the floor. Everyone joins him. Breakfast consists of nuts and crackers left over from the mini bar, which Gavin eats quickly. He smiles at Griffon over the rim of his coffee mug, and then looks to Geoff, and pulls up short.

Now that the surprise of the morning has pretty much passed, Gavin can really _look_ at Geoff, and what he sees makes him worried. Geoff looks terrible. He has dark rings around his eyes, and he’s paler than Gavin remembers. He eats slowly, drinks his coffee even slower when Gavin finishes and the cup is refilled for him. When everyone finishes eating and Griffon goes to stand by the window and look out over the city below, Geoff pulls out the road map to examine it again.

“You okay, Geoff?” Gavin asks. Geoff glances up.                               

“Yeah, buddy.” He shivers. “Just didn’t sleep well. It’s cold as dicks in here.” Gavin hums noncommittally, but glances at Ryan, who shrugs. They’re not cold in the slightest, not in here. But then, Geoff has been shouldering everyone’s fear and tiredness for the entire journey, by himself. It’s no wonder he’s tired, and Gavin knows that if someone isn’t sleeping it’s harder to stay warm. He just wishes there could be something for him to do, something to help.

And he’s about to suggest that they delay their departure so Geoff can get some more rest when Griffon says slowly, “Geoff. We’re too late.”

Everyone jumps up and hurries to the window, and Gavin’s heart lurches into his mouth at the exact moment that Geoff whispers, “Aww, shit.” On the street, three floors below, people lumber along the road slowly. Gavin can see one or two of them vomiting dark green mush onto the pavement. Some are slumped against walls or posts, and others still are swiping at each other with ungainly arms.

“Infected,” Ryan murmurs, and suddenly Geoff snaps to attention, weariness forgotten.

“Alright, everyone look here,” he orders, and pulls them back to the map. He points at a town to the north east. “This here is Deming. This is the first town on our way, and we’re going to aim for that. We won’t get there in a day, but we’ll get there tomorrow night.” He slides his finger down and along. “There’s a freight rail that goes the whole way, starts here. I’ll bet there’s plenty of signal stations and layover spots along the way to Deming, so we’ll find somewhere to hole up over night.”

Gavin frowns. “But... Aren’t you coming with us?” he asks. “Why do you need to tell us this?”

“Gav, if we get separated out there, we’re going to need to get back together. We all need to know the plan. If we get split up, we go to Deming, we leave a trail to a, a, a safe room or something where we can meet up. Get it?” Gavin nods. “Good. Now, the sun is rising just south east, and setting just south west. If, for whatever reason, we don’t catch up in Deming, keep going north east. Right?” Gavin nods again and Geoff looks to Ryan for confirmation, and he nods too. “Right.” Geoff slaps his thighs and pushes himself up, folding the map and tucking it into his jeans pocket.

“Get your guns,” Geoff adds. “This is going to suck.”

They pull on coats and backpacks, laden with water bottles and the remains of their food. Guns remain carefully in hand, and Gavin straps a knife belt around his waist, something Geoff had found in the hall on the way in. They pull their barricades away from the door and carefully, so carefully, inch their way out.

There’s nothing in the hall, thank god. Hell, there’s nothing in the entire hotel, but the second they reach the lobby they can see the street in front is hardly empty. “Back door?” Ryan asks, and thankfully that leads into an empty alleyway.

“Save your bullets,” Griffon advises. “Bash in their skull first.”

It's a long, difficult journey out of sight of El Paso. They're fighting Infected off left right and centre, and it's never ending. It's not overwhelming, but they're leaving a steady trail of crumpled bodies behind them. Geoff looks furiously determined, the butt of his gun hitting bang on every damn time. Griffon finds an axe and finally looks at home, swinging it with practiced ease and cutting heads clean off in single strokes. After every couple of kills she cleans the blade on a corpse's clothes and does it all over again.

Gavin is managing. He's ungainly and his arms are already tired, but he's managing. He has to. But Gavin can barely convince himself to stop staring at Ryan because, honestly? Ryan is poetry in motion. He pulls a hunting knife from his bag along with some duct tape, and Gavin mentally kicks himself because _duct tape_ , what a damn useful thing to think to bring with them. Ryan secures the knife to the top of his rifle and uses it to stab right through Infected heads - quick, sharp stabs that show the fine control he has over those muscles Gavin had been so appreciative of the night before. He whips that gun forwards and backwards, slices Infected guts to shove them back before his killing stroke, and it's incredible.

After three hours of walking, of fighting off Infected that lumber around houses and chase them across fields, they finally find the train yard. It looms in front of them, and it's only when Gavin starts forward to it that Ryan grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him up short. "Wait!" he snaps. "That place is infested!"

It is. It's absolutely _crawling_ with Infected. Gavin looks to Geoff, who's frowning. "Look," he says after surveying the stretch in front of them. He points. "There's the station house. See that shed next to it? If we can get in there we can bottleneck these bastards until it's safe to move on. We're going to run through them and get in there, okay?"

They nod, and Griffon adds, "Boys, this is a chance to use your bullets. Watch where you shoot."

Geoff gives them a reassuring nod and takes off at a jog towards the room. The faster pace must alert the Infected, because as one their heads snap to face them, and a heartbeat later they charge at Geoff in the lead, screaming. Geoff's rifle swings up and he's firing in the same moment, Infected dropping around them. He clears enough of a path and they're halfway there, and he pulls to the side and waves everyone past him.

Gavin hears him yelling, "Go, go! Get in the room!" and Gavin takes the lead, reaches the room and sees the door has been torn off its hinges. The room is Infected-free, but the moment Gavin crosses into the room he realises he's made a mistake. A second later everyone else crashes in behind him, and the room's alarm starts wailing.

If they had thought the horde had been bad trying to get in, it was nothing compared to now, where Infected swarmed to the room in numbers they hadn't even imagined. “ _Shit!_ ” Geoff swears. "Griff! Get the alarm!" She jumps to action, looking for the alarm box. "Gavin, with me at the door, Ryan, the window!" He kneels down and starts firing, and Ryan swings around to guard the single glass window.

Gavin surprises even himself. He remembers Geoff's training and swings his carbine up to position. He remembers Dan, back in England, firing a similar gun for a video and barely letting it move between shots, and Gavin channels that. He lightly squeezes the trigger and lets bullets fly. Infected fall in droves.

It feels like an eternity. Gavin thinks for a few horrified seconds that it'll never end and they'll be torn apart in this tiny room out the back of a train yard. But then the alarm cuts off and Griffon yells, "Got it!" and slowly the new Infected charging the room dwindle and fade away completely, and there's just a field of corpses outside the door.

Gavin's adrenaline rush fades and he slumps against the nearest wall, flicking his carbine's safety back on. Ryan joins him, shoulders bumping, and when they glance at each other Gavin can't help but grin and burst into relieved laughter, and Ryan joins him in that as well.

"Don't celebrate too much," Geoff says, pulling a water bottle from his pack to take a swig, then passing it to Griffon to sip too. "We're not out of the woods yet."

It turns out walking on the train tracks is one of the greatest ideas Geoff has had. It's so much easier, stepping on the cement struts between rails, and there's less chance of Gavin turning an ankle with a misplaced footfall on a hidden rock or in a hole. Plus, Gavin realises quickly, they can see Infected from miles away, and Geoff suddenly doesn't care about saving bullets, because he picks them off one by one as they come into range. It gives Gavin a chance to relax a little more, and he pesters Ryan by asking dumb questions that make Ryan respond with scientific words Gavin actually does know the meaning of but pretends not to.

It's nice, but it makes Gavin revert back to pre-Infection reactions to him. Every now and then Ryan's fingers will brush against his coat, and Gavin's breath will catch in his throat, or Ryan will put a hand on his back to steady him, and Gavin's heart will pound. Ryan starts to notice that Gavin's voice cracks every now and then, and knowing what he knows now, takes full advantage of it. When Griffon and Geoff are double checking something on the map and checking the direction of the sun, Ryan slips an arm around Gavin's waist and leans in to his ear. "It's a good thing there's no hiding places here, because I'd want to blow you for hours and we'd never get anywhere," he says, and it comes out as an honest to god purr. Gavin's face bursts into red immediately, and his cock actually twitches in his jeans.

"That's not bloody fair to say to a bloke," Gavin breathes as Ryan pulls away. "Especially when there's no chance of a follow through." But Ryan is just laughing that damn conspiratorial chuckle of his and moving ahead.

They come across a stationary freight train just as the sun is touching the horizon. Ryan nudges Gavin and grins, and Gavin is about to respond when Geoff holds up a hand and stops them. "Do you hear that?" he asks, and when Gavin listens he can, he hears a low growling. "Keep your wits about you, something's here," Geoff adds, and everyone unslings guns from shoulders to hold them ready.

The growling follows them the entire length of the train, and Griffon mutters, "It's hunting us." It's almost completely dark when they move past the front and the growl turns into a screech that Gavin swears he'll remember for the rest of his life. They whirl around, guns up, and there on the ground a few train cars back an Infected is crouched.

A heartbeat later it launches itself through the air and clears the entire distance at once. Geoff curses, "Shit!" and Gavin yelps and jumps aside, and Ryan grunts in surprise and pain as the Infected lands squarely on his chest and knocks him to the ground. It's still screaming, and now Ryan's voice joins it, " _Get it off me!_ " legitimately terrified as the Infected tears at his coat over his stomach.

Gavin screams as well, screams, " _No!_ " and reacts without thinking. He kicks at the Infected's side. It stumbles backwards, off Ryan, and Gavin fires, his carbine's bullet shooting neatly into the side of its head. Its howling is cut off and it collapses, unmoving.

Gavin is at Ryan's side in a breath, falling into the dirt on his knees. "I'm okay, I'm okay," Ryan says over and over while Gavin presses trembling hands over his stomach, looking for blood. Ryan's coat is in tatters there, but his jumper is mostly untouched and his skin is intact, completely. Geoff ducks down to check him over as well, but doesn’t complain when Gavin fidgets at his side, or when Gavin finally pushes him back out of the way so he can finish panicking. Ryan manages to sit up and Gavin doesn't even hesitate, just throws his arms around Ryan's neck and pulls him close. "I'm okay," he says one last time when his arms curl around Gavin's back in return.

It's good of Geoff to let them be for even a few minutes, Gavin thinks. But he understands they have to keep going, so when Geoff pats his head to tell him to move, Gavin does, though he uncurls his arms reluctantly. Geoff holds his hand out for Ryan to take and helps him to his feet, and claps his shoulder reassuringly.

"Next building we find we'll stop in," Geoff announces, and Gavin is glad, because Geoff sounds exhausted, and he looks worse. Gavin tries to focus on watching and listening for more Infected, but he can't, he just has to walk next to Ryan, keep their arms bumping close, and can’t help but keep dragging his eyes over his stomach to check him.

"I'm fine," Ryan murmurs after Gavin presses against his side for the third or fourth time. "Really." Gavin nods.

"I know," he answers, finally pulling his eyes away to look down at his feet while he walks. "But I can't lose you. I can't lose any of you."

He's saved from further comment when Geoff says, "Fucking finally," and there, just ahead, a small building becomes clearer in the dark. They make their way over and Gavin is relieved to see it's not alarmed, and the door is intact. It's tiny, only an old signal house with a small clear plastic window, and they have to pull out a desk and chair to make room for them all to lay down, but they manage.

"You," Griffon says, pointing at Geoff. "You sleep. You're not doing a watch tonight."

Geoff looks like he's going to protest, but Gavin stops him. "You're knackered, Geoff. We'll take care of it." So Geoff curls up in a corner, and Griffon sets herself up for first watch. Ryan stretches out on the ground, leaving Gavin still standing. He bites his lip for only a second before he shrugs off his coat to put over Geoff, who smiles gratefully. Then he joins Ryan, and he doesn't even complain when Ryan loops an arm over his stomach and pulls him in to slot his back against Ryan's chest. And that's how he falls asleep, warm against Ryan and listening to Geoff's tired laboured breathing in the corner and the soft _tink tink tink_ of Griffon's nails playing on the blade of her axe.

The moon is halfway up the sky when Griffon wakes him for his watch. He slips from Ryan's arms and smiles when Griffon goes to sit with Geoff and gather him against her chest. His face smooths out in his fitful sleep, and Gavin hears his breath slow and deepen, and his shivering stops. Gavin thinks it might be the first proper sleep the man is getting in days.

Gavin's watch is uneventful. He sees an Infected stagger past just after what he thinks is midnight, but it doesn't even look at their little room. He watches the moon cross the sky a little more before going to wake Ryan for the final guard. Ryan wakes instantly at the light press of Gavin's fingers on his shoulder, and Gavin only just manages to hold in his smile while Ryan stands up.

"Anything good happen?" Ryan whispers softly. Gavin shakes his head. Ryan takes his cheeks gently in his palms and leans in to brush their lips together, and Gavin is glad for the dark because he feels his face burning red. "Sleep well," Ryan adds, and turns away to watch the door. Surprisingly, Gavin does.

 

* * *

 

It's an uneventful trip along the final leg to Deming. The number of Infected increases to a never ending crowd on the town's outskirts. When they finally cross from residential streets to storefronts and businesses in the town centre the sun is low in the sky and storm clouds are threatening from the east. Griffon points out a gun store, and she wearily breaks a window for them to climb into. Geoff points out the correct ammunition size for them all, and Gavin commits it to memory as he straps a new pistol to the hip opposite his knife.

He gets excited when he sees a pharmacy down the street, and nudges Ryan, who snorts. "Geoff, pharmacy!"

Geoff looks, then sees both Gavin and Ryan grinning, and frowns. "I'm not wasting time and energy to get things so you two can fuck in the room next to us tonight," he growls. Gavin is almost offended, but Geoff is clearly exhausted again so he lets that slide.

"Geoff," he reasons instead, "we need bandages, med kits, that mingy water thing you use to clean cuts and stuff. What if we get hurt? What if Ryan had been hurt yesterday? We wouldn't have had any bloody supplies, and we'd have been right stuffed then, wouldn't we?"

Griffon huffs a tired laugh and puts a hand on Geoff's arm. "He's right. Come on, hon. You boys guard the front." Ryan nods and Gavin watches as Geoff and Griffon break into the pharmacy. They look bone-tired. The rest Geoff had gotten the night before had started him off well, but he's clearly struggling, and his skin is pale. Griffon isn't faring much better. Her breathing is rough and fast, and Gavin wishes he could shoulder some of the burden they've been carrying for the whole four of them.

They're in the pharmacy for maybe 15 minutes, which Gavin thinks is ridiculous for just shoving medical supplies into backpacks, but when they come back out onto the street their faces are grim and Griffon's eyes are lined with red. "Are you okay?" Gavin asks. They don't answer immediately, and instead glance between themselves.

Finally, Griffon says quietly, sounding for the first time unsure of herself, "There was a child in there," and Gavin's hand flies to his mouth.

"Christ," whispers Ryan. "Are they...?" Griffon shakes her head.

"Come on," Geoff adds softly. "Let's find a place to sleep." He starts leading them down the street, but Griffon grabs Gavin by the elbow and stops him. She reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out a box of condoms, which she slips into his coat instead.

"Don't waste these," she says firmly. Gavin is torn between mortification and elation, so he simply nods.

"I won't," he assures her. "I promise."

"And for the love of god, don't do anything tonight. Not when Geoff might walk in on anything, okay?" Gavin nods again, and she pats his head gently. "Good. Let's go."

Deming is a tiny town, especially compared to Austin, but it's mostly residential, so when the group leaves the commercial area it's not hard to find places they could spend the night. When the clouds break and rain starts pouring down, the Infected come faster and in greater numbers, and when they find themselves with their backs against a wall shooting out into the storm, Geoff decides that this place is as good as any and gets Ryan to kick the door open, and they all pile inside. They slam the door shut and push a couch up against it, and bail up the stairs. Desks are shoved to the top of the stairway to block the way up, and bookcases piled atop them. Somewhere downstairs glass shatters as Infected break through windows, but the blockade on the stairs holds without strain and the group exhales as one. Gavin remembers the sound of the siren attracting Infected, so puts a finger to his lips and beckons everyone to follow him silently down the hall.

"We should stay together tonight," he murmurs, ducking his head into a bedroom to check it's clear. "Easier to keep watch." He glances back at them and is pulled up short when he sees the way Geoff and Griffon are looking at him. Geoff looks honest to god relieved, and Griffon looks so proud she seems like she's going to start crying. "Uh, is that okay...?"

Geoff nods quickly. "Yeah kid, that's great thinking. Why don't you go pull another mattress in here so we're all comfortable?"

Gavin nods in return. "Sure. Ryan?" Ryan moves to follow him until Geoff's hand shoots out and grabs his arm, holding him in place.

"Not just yet," Geoff says firmly, and flicks his head at Gavin in the universal signal for _get going_. Gavin glances between them and Ryan just shrugs, so Gavin does as he's told and starts towards another room. As he's walking away he hears Geoff growl lowly, "That kid in there is like my son." Gavin pauses just inside the next bedroom to listen to Geoff whispering. "You hear me?"

"Yeah," Ryan murmurs back. His voice is coloured with confusion, and Gavin doesn't know where this is going either.

"So you better understand me when I tell you that if you so much as _think_ of hurting him--"

And here Ryan cuts him off and actually sounds worried. "God, Geoff, no, no, I wouldn't."

"You're damn right. You better take fucking good care of him."

Ryan is back to confused. "Yeah, of course."

"Good. Go." Gavin moves further back into the room and almost misses it when Geoff murmurs to Griffon, "There. They'll be fine."

"I'm just... Thank god they have each other." She coughs once, twice, and the sound grows dimmer as they move away into what Gavin assumes is the bedroom they'll all be staying in. At that moment Ryan walks into Gavin's room, face lined with a confused frown.

"What was that about?" Gavin hisses. "I don't know why he gives a toss."

"He's a parent to you," Ryan says slowly, but he doesn't sound convinced either. "It's just the shovel talk."

"Well it's bang out of line," Gavin growls, beckoning Ryan over to the mattress, just a single size, and lifting a corner. Ryan nudges in next to him to help, and they flip the mattress onto its side on the floor with a soft _whump_.

Ryan goes to start pulling the mattress out of the room, but Gavin stops him. "Wait on." Ryan pauses. "I have an apology gift in my coat pocket, bang it out." Ryan flicks an eyebrow upwards and it's just unfair what that does to Gavin. "Go on," he insists, voice cracking just a touch.

So Ryan reaches in and pulls the box of condoms out just enough to get a look at it. The second he sees it, he grins. "Gavin Free," he laughs, and he sounds genuinely impressed. "You cheeky little shit." He lets the box fall back into Gavin's pocket.

Gavin's heart is pounding. "I mean obviously we can't go using any tonight, but, you know, they're there. For the next time we get the chance." Ryan is grinning even harder, but it still comes as a surprise when he snags Gavin's coat front with a hand and tugs him in close to crash their mouths together, all teeth and hot tongue. And Gavin lets it happen, responds more than enthusiastically, and only moves to stop it when Ryan backs him up hard against the wall and drops his hands to grip Gavin's hips.

Gavin twists his head to the side and gasps in a breath. "This is bloody top but I promised Griffon we wouldn't, not tonight," he whispers frantically. His skin is too hot and he wants nothing more than to have Ryan continue, but they can't. Not now. Thankfully, Ryan obliges, and pulls away.

"Damn it," he says simply, and Gavin snorts. "Alright, let's get this moved." And the last thing he does is pat Gavin once on the arse when he moves to grab the front of the mattress. They slide it easily down the hall and into the other bedroom to plonk it down on the floor against a wall.

Geoff is already lying on the other bed, eyes closed and breathing heavy. He opens one lid to glance at Gavin and returns a forced smile before closing his eye again. Griffon is opening a few tins of food - beans again, mixed with tiny sausages this time, and some different fruits in syrups. If Gavin never sees another tin of beans when this is all over, he thinks, it'll be too soon.

Gavin tries to talk about meaningless things while they eat. Geoff doesn't contribute, just eats and goes back on the bed, and Gavin thinks that's fair. Ryan tries to talk as well, but they both run dry of topics quickly. There's an uncomfortable silence for a while before Griffon finally looks at Ryan and asks, "Has anyone told you about the time Gavin was stuck on our roof for about 5 hours?"

Gavin turns beet red as Ryan grins and turns to look at him. Gavin hasn't seen that grin in a while, not since before they were told to stop going to work. That's Ryan's _I'm up to something and it's going to be hilarious for me and a nightmare for you_ grin, his _Maybe I'll put you in the hole next_ grin. Gavin loves that grin. Normally.

"No, Griffon, they have not," Ryan says slowly, voice laden with faux innocence. "Please, do."

Griffon laughs back as Gavin groans and buries his face in his hands. "No, don't, I nearly broke every bone in my damn body!"

"Well, now I _have_ to hear it," Ryan adds, and Griffon launches into the story. And that's how they end up spending the next few hours, quietly telling as many stories about Gavin's misadventures living with the Ramseys as they can. They don't even get through half of them before Griffon stretches and tells them to try and get some sleep, so they retire to their mattress.

Despite the higher spirits, it's a restless night for everyone. The Infected downstairs make noise all night; moaning, soft sobbing and vomiting, and they crash around into furniture. Gavin watches Geoff's face line further into exhaustion, and Griffon's face matches it. Ryan tosses and turns beside him, and finally just gives up and lies silently on his back, eyes closed. Gavin can tell he doesn't sleep at all. The storm rages around the house for hours until it finally peters out to gentle rain just as the sun rises.

They don't bother waiting around. Gavin wants to, wants Geoff to try sleeping an extra day because his faces is paler than he's ever seen it, but the man steadfastly declines. "We have to get out of this town," he says. Gavin gives in because Geoff is right, the open road between what was civilisation has been safer, but he refuses to let Geoff carry his own backpack.

It feels weird to be in this house, knowing that the people who lived here are, most likely, among the Infected lumbering downstairs. Part of Gavin feels intrusive, looking in their drawers for supplies. He resolutely doesn't look at the photos hung on the walls because that's a level of intimacy he doesn't think he can justify, but he's glad he's checked cupboards when he finds a torch and a packet of batteries, and even more glad when he finds a new coat that Ryan can fit into.

The rain finally stops and the Infected leave the house, and cautiously Gavin leads the group out too. Despite the extra ammunition they'd picked out the night before, Gavin decides they're back to bashing in skulls. "Stay in the middle of the group," he tells Geoff, who gasps a laugh and nods.

"Yes sir."

It's rough, leaving Deming. The rain has brought out huge numbers of Infected, and there's more around every corner. Geoff is slow moving, and in the back of his mind Gavin is frustrated, because with just an extra day rest he would have been fine. Worse, by the time Deming disappears south-east behind them and they start following a line Ryan has suggested on their map, Griffon is slowing too.

Ryan starts out walking next to Gavin, helping lead the group. They talk about nothing, just mentioning stupid facts about things they see on the way. Ryan points out a coyote darting away through brown scrub, and answers Gavin's million and a half questions about coyotes for thirty minutes, until Gavin can't think of any more to ask. Gavin tells Ryan about a scar he has on the back of his left thigh that he swears is exactly the shape of that tree trunk there, no, really, and no Ryan you _can't_ see it right now, you bugger.

And when Gavin is halfway through telling a very British joke that Ryan doesn't quite understand but is smiling at anyway, Ryan tangles their fingers together.

Gavin snaps his hand away as though he's been burned and stops mid-sentence. Ryan's eyes are wide. "Shit, sorry," he says, but Gavin is already shaking his head, and he crosses his arms tight against his chest.

"No, no, sorry," Gavin babbles, and he's so embarrassed and self-conscious about it, it's bananas. "I just... I don't like... I don't really like hand holding. And not, not right now." Ryan is nodding but Gavin can't stop talking. "And I know I said the same thing about the cuddling thing and I did that anyway but, please... Piss, Ryan, I'm sorry."

"Hey, hey, it's okay, Gav. I get it," Ryan tells him. "Hand holding is a no-go, that's fine." He smiles. "Probably for the best anyway, now I think about it. Want both hands for guns." His eyebrow quirks once and Gavin realises that Ryan is offering him an out, giving him a reason outside his own feelings to not want to hold hands. Gavin isn't above jumping on it, either.

"Yeah," he nods. "Exactly." Ryan just smiles at him, and a moment later points at a tree and springs into a description of the most number of different fruits that would be possible to grow on the one tree.

Eventually Ryan moves back to take up the rear and keep watch from behind. The Fall wind blows off the surface of puddles and right through coats to chill bone. Griffon is coughing on the cold air, Ryan and Gavin are shivering a little, and Geoff is so cold Gavin can hear his teeth chattering constantly behind him.

They've been walking for maybe another hour and a half when Gavin decides stuff this, they're stopping at the very first shelter they can find, and Geoff can sod it. He's just about to turn and tell them that when he hears a thud behind him and Ryan cries out, "Gavin!"

He whirls, and Geoff is on the ground. He runs back and turns to Griffon to get her to help him get Geoff back to his feet, but she starts coughing and can't catch her breath, and looks as bad as Geoff had that morning. So Gavin tries to help Geoff up alone.

Geoff doesn't respond when Gavin reaches to him, breath laboured and shallow. When Gavin crouches to grab his hands, they're as cold as ice, and when Geoff turns his head, Gavin recoils backwards. His face isn't pale anymore, it's outright grey, and that's a colour Gavin has seen on hundreds of faces in the last few days, and every one of them has been trying to kill him. His hand flies to his mouth, horrified, and he looks to Griffon, who is looks stricken.

She's still coughing, and is shivering hard, and Gavin tastes bile, because Geoff has been coughing for days, shivering for days, and now..?

"I'm sorry," Griffon gasps out. "We thought we'd have longer."

" _Noooo_ ," Gavin moans, he feels sick, he's going to vomit. "No, no, please, no."

"Gavin, what's going on?" Ryan asks, and Gavin feels tears spring to his eyes.

"They're Infected."


	4. The Safe Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guilt piled on guilt piled on guilt. That's what Gavin feels. And literally the only thing that can keep him going now is the fact that he PROMISED.

“They’re Infected.”

“Jesus Christ,” Ryan whispers, and that’s it, Gavin loses control and falls to his knees. He retches, retches again, and vomits.

He can hear Griffon whispering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over, and Ryan is struck silent. Geoff still hasn’t moved by the time Gavin wipes his mouth and looks up at Griffon through tears.

“Why didn’t you _tell me?”_ he yells. “We could have _done something!_ ”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Griffon answers as Gavin lurches to his feet, pack falling into the dirt. “There’s no cure, Gavin, and even if there was, where would we find one?”

“We could have figured something out!”

“We just wanted to get you and Ryan as far along to San Fran as possible--” and suddenly dots connect in Gavin’s head.

“Christ, this is why Geoff had that talk with Ryan last night, isn’t it?” Gavin is prepared to scream until his lungs burst, because he’s nearing full-on panic and screaming will help, screaming _has to help_ , but he’s cut off when Ryan moves in close to gently lay a hand on his shoulder.

“Gavin,” he murmurs, and the quiet voice is enough to stun Gavin into silence. “We need to move Geoff out of the open.” Gavin looks back down. Geoff is still but for the jagged rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. Gavin nods and Ryan passes his pack to him before crouching down and heaving Geoff up into his arms. Gavin almost can’t bring himself to do it, but he goes to Griffon for her to lean on, and follows Ryan to a small patch of trees beside a dry river bed.

Gently, Ryan lowers Geoff to prop him up against a trunk, and Griffon moves to drop her pack and sit beside him to gather him in her arms. Gavin can’t look. He catches a glimpse of Geoff’s eyes, staring unfocused into the distance, and Griffon’s pale face won’t get out of his head. “Gavin,” Griffon murmurs, just as another bought of coughs wrack her frame.

He forces himself to meet her eyes. “What are we going to do?” he whispers.

She looks truly apologetic when she answers, “You know what you have to do.” Gavin steps back, furiously shaking his head.

“No,” he says firmly. “ _No._ You can’t ask me to—I’m not going to kill you.” But even so, his hand drops to his knife belt as he speaks.

“Come here,” she murmurs, and Gavin finds himself walking over to crouch in front of her. She takes his hands. Her skin is cold, and she doesn’t have the strength to squeeze his fingers. “Listen to me. Geoff can’t go on. He’s done, and you know he wouldn’t want to be one of those things that’s been chasing us these last few days. And even if I wasn’t close too, I’m not leaving him. I can’t leave him. Where he goes, I go.”

“But what about me?” Gavin whispers harshly. “What do I do?”

She smiles, though even that seems a struggle. “Last night, you took control of us. You told us how to behave, where to sleep. You’ve been leading us today. You will be fine. You and Ryan will get to San Fran and hop on a plane or a boat or _something_ , and you are going to get to England, you hear me?” He nods, nearly unable to see through tears and _Christ_ he should feel embarrassed about this, he doesn’t cry, it’s a point of pride, he doesn’t do it, but here he is sobbing like a child and he can’t stop.

Griffon cups his cheek softly. “Ryan is going to take real good care of you, kid,” she whispers.

Gavin hears Ryan answer gently, “Yes ma’am,” behind him.

“You have to do this now, Gavin. Please.” Griffon’s hand drops limply back to Geoff’s lap in front of her. “I can’t do it, and you need to keep moving. So you kill me first, kid, then Geoff, and then you move on.” When Gavin doesn’t move, Griffon looks up to Ryan imploringly. He nods.

“I’ve got you, Griffon,” he says, and starts forward.

Gavin slides his knife out of its holder and stops him. “No,” he murmurs. “I’ll do it. I owe you this much at least, after all these years.” Griffon smiles and leans back against the tree trunk.

“Just remember, Gav, Geoff and I love you very much, and we’re _so_ proud of you.”

He nods. “Yeah,” he answers. “Yeah, I love you guys too. You bloody know that.” Her smile widens and she closes her eyes. Gavin unzips her coat and puts a hand on her shoulder, resting the knife just over her ribs. He hesitates for a few seconds more before quickly thrusting forwards and to the side. She gasps, and Gavin pulls away when she slumps.

Gavin wants that to be it, he doesn’t want to think about this anymore, or do anything, but at the jolted movement Geoff’s eyes open, glazed over with white, and deep in his chest he starts to growl. It sounds almost exactly like the growl that had followed them along the freight train, and Gavin doesn’t want to see Geoff like that. He doesn’t hesitate at all this time, just holds Geoff down and slices. The growl fades out and Gavin flings the knife away into the river bed and pushes himself back and away.

He crashes into Ryan behind him, and instantly turns to clutch at his coat and bury his face into Ryan’s chest. Ryan’s arms come up around him to pull him close and keep him there while Gavin cries desperately. He doesn’t know how long Ryan lets him do it, he only knows that Ryan is still there when his tears dry up and his throat closes up over his sobs to stop them jolting his body. And when he pulls away Ryan lets him go, and murmurs, “I’ll grab the stuff,” and Gavin can hear him rustling through packs to stack more tins of food and water bottles into their own.

When Ryan comes back to his side, he gently helps Gavin get his pack back on from where he’d dropped it, and places Geoff’s map in his hand. Gavin stares down at it. “You remember where we’re heading, right?” Ryan asks, the very picture of encouragement. Gavin nods slowly. “Which way?”

Gavin turns his face to the sky, looks at where the sun is on its downward arc, and points. “That way.” His voice sounds hollow, but Ryan doesn’t comment. Instead he nods, and waits.

Gavin doesn’t move. He wants to turn around, see Geoff and Griffon one last time, but it’s so hard. Eventually, Ryan murmurs, “You don’t have to look, Gavin. We can go if you want. They wouldn’t have thought any less of you.” Gavin is surprised to realise Ryan’s voice is spurring him to action, and he shakes his head firmly.

“Can I use your duct tape?” he asks. Ryan frowns, confused, but nods and digs in his bag for it. When he hands it to him, Gavin walks between trees and shrubs to find two straight, thick sticks, and tapes them together in a cross. “This is what people do, right?” he whispers, staring down at it for a few moments before looking up at Ryan’s face.

Ryan smiles gently and Gavin crouches in front of Geoff and Griffon, their faces finally still after their long journey here. “Yeah,” Ryan murmurs, and Gavin twists the marker into the dirt next to the tree trunk beside Geoff. “Yeah, they do.”

“Geoff would call me dumb as dicks for doing this,” Gavin adds, and Ryan hums in agreement.

“But he’d have done the same.”

Gavin stands up when he’s happy with the marker’s position, and dusts off his hands on his jeans. He thinks it’s probably just made his hands worse, with all the dust and grime on his clothes, but it’s habit and somehow he finds that comforting. He stands next to Ryan for a few minutes, taking his last look at the people who took him in without hesitation as though he was their own son, and slowly, hesitantly, slides his fingers into Ryan’s. Ryan doesn’t say anything, just squeezes gently, and follows when Gavin turns and walks onwards.

 

* * *

 

Ryan tries to stop their movement for the day when the moon peeks between clouds just above the horizon, but Gavin, silent, just pulls on his hand and keeps walking. They crunch through dry scrub and slide on loose stones and dirt, near invisible in the dark, and still Gavin doesn’t stop. Once, Gavin slips and twists his ankle, but he grimly picks himself up and limps on. Then, when the moon is high and Ryan tells him it has to be nearly ten by now, Gavin leads him up a slope and stops on a ridge overlooking a large pond, about 400 feet across.

He frowns and looks around. Other than the pond, more than a dozen feet below, there’s just dirt and small shrubs to break up the landscape, and they can see clearly for miles in all directions. Finally, he lets Ryan’s hand go. “Here,” he murmurs. “Here is good.” Ryan sinks to the ground gratefully, and pulls out food. Gavin accepts his, but remains standing to eat it while he slowly drags his eyes over the horizons.

“Do you want the first or second watch?” Ryan asks when he’s finished. Gavin shakes his head.

“No, you sleep. I’ll do it.”

Ryan frowns, hard. “Gav, you have to rest.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.”

Ryan doesn’t answer for a long time, and Gavin thinks maybe he’s fallen asleep after all, it’s been a long day, but finally he asks softly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Gavin squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “No.”

“Will you tell me if that changes?”

Gavin hesitates. “Yes,” he whispers. Ryan hums behind him and shifts, and Gavin thinks he’s laying down, now.

“Okay. Just... Wake me up if you change your mind.”

“Yeah,” Gavin breathes. “Thanks.” But Ryan doesn’t answer, and Gavin quietly sits down at his feet, holding his carbine over his knees and scanning the area while Ryan sleeps.

The night is surprisingly quiet. Every now and then a coyote howls, and a disturbed bird chirps, but Gavin ignores them all. Not once does he hear the groan and shuffle of an Infected, and for that he’s glad. He’s not sure he has the energy to respond to it.

The sun rises slowly, and Gavin glances back at Ryan to see if he’s waking up. But Ryan sleeps on, and only shifts again when the sun has been up for at least an hour or two and jackrabbits have started criss-crossing the plains Gavin has been staring over all night. He hears Ryan move to sit up, and there’s a heavy few seconds of silence before Ryan speaks.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” He sounds confused, more than anything. Gavin shrugs.

“Figured you needed to sleep, if you didn’t wake up yourself.” He looks back over his shoulder. Ryan pushes himself to his feet and looks towards the sun, palm raised to his brow to stop the glare.

“We should have been moving hours ago,” Ryan murmurs, and as Gavin hunches in on himself with guilt, seems to realise he’s said the wrong thing. “Do you remember which way we’re heading?” he prompts instead.

Gavin slowly nods and stands himself, and checks the sun and the plains while Ryan hands him some food. “That way,” he says, pointing as always to the north-west. Ryan nods again, and takes Gavin’s hand when it’s offered. They eat as Gavin leads them down the slope they’d climbed the night before, and pulls Ryan in the right direction. They don’t talk.

That’s how Gavin remembers most of the next few days; constantly thinking about Geoff and Griffon and how they’d looked beside his makeshift grave marker and how he should have known and how he should have fixed it. He wants to stop remembering, stop thinking, but he failed them, he knows he failed them, and to stop thinking about it now is to fail them again. They deserve better. They deserve better than _him_.

Every morning, Ryan asks him if he remembers the way. Gavin tells him yes, and points, and that seems a comfortable pattern. Gavin doesn’t know when he stops responding, and he doesn’t know when he stops hearing the question. The days blend together, and Gavin remembers only snapshots. Ryan takes his hand each morning and they walk. Ryan helps him lie down at the end of the day. Ryan wakes him up when the sun rises. And through it all, Gavin sees Griffon and Geoff walking beside him, grey skin sagging and white eyes accusing.

And Gavin only really starts paying attention again when Ryan’s hand moves from his fingers to his upper arm, and _wrenches_ him to the side. He trips, stumbles, and crashes to the ground behind Ryan’s feet, and is about to demand to know what the bloody hell that was for when Ryan shoots at an Infected in the space Gavin had been. Gavin scrambles back to his feet and fumbles for his pistol. It’s loaded – Geoff had insisted – and Gavin picks off one, two, three Infected and—

_Jesus, they’re everywhere_.

Gavin is about to pull Ryan away and make a run for it, when something shoots out from their left, _is that a rope?_ and wraps itself around Ryan’s wrist and tightens. Ryan drops his rifle in surprise, and suddenly the rope pulls, and drags him forwards. “ _Fuck!”_ Ryan yells, and Gavin yelps. He holsters his pistol and goes for his knife, then remembers it’s buried in a river bed covered in the blood of family. He doesn’t have time to think about their condemning gaze, he wants to, but he can’t, so he dives for Ryan’s dropped rifle instead.

It still has Ryan’s knife taped to it, and Gavin charges after him, still being dragged by his wrist. The rope isn’t a rope – it’s connected to an Infected, Gavin realises with fresh horror, it’s like something has grabbed this Infected’s tongue and has stretched it and stretched it until it’s nearly a hundred feet long. Gavin reaches Ryan and slices the tongue away, swinging up with Ryan’s rifle and aiming it at this new Infected. He shoots, once, and the Infected gasps and falls to the ground in a cloud of green smoke, but Gavin couldn’t have shot it again if he’d tried. He’s not used to the recoil on this gun and it slams his shoulder backwards.

His entire right arm goes numb and he’s still marvelling at this when Ryan peels the rest of the tongue off his wrist and grabs Gavin’s coat sleeve. “ _Run!”_ Ryan yells, and pulls him along behind. Gavin obeys. Infected swarm after them, come crashing in from all angles, and Gavin doesn’t have time to stop and try and fight them off.

He’s about to ask where they’re going to run to when Ryan points to a wall and gasps out, “Look!” Someone has spray painted a crude drawing of a house with a plus sign in it, and an arrow pointing down an alley. Gavin hopes it’s a good sign, rather than something telling them to stay away, but can’t even draw breath to question it. He just runs after Ryan and hopes.

“There!” Ryan yells back to him, dodging Infected hands. Gavin can barely hear him over his panting and the screams of the Infected around him, but he looks past Ryan as he runs. What looks to be a warehouse up ahead has a red, barred door wide open, and the same symbol sprayed next to the doorway.

They crash into the room and Gavin screams, “Close the door, close the door!” He and Ryan both turn and push it closed against the swarm, and Ryan slams down a metal bar to latch it before they leap back to watch it, breath caught in their lungs.

The door holds. There’s no window, just a small peephole to look through, but neither Gavin or Ryan move to check it. Slowly, the noise of the Infected dies down and they stop throwing themselves on the door, as though not being able to see the humans inside has made them completely forget their existence. At last, it falls silent and Gavin lets himself breathe freely again.

Ryan stumbles to a wall and falls down against it, back against concrete and knees drawing up to his chest. His eyes close, and his face looks pained. Gavin sets about investigating the room.

It’s incredible. Someone has set this place up with first aid kits, extra guns and ammo, and there are even a couple of Molotov cocktails standing on a shelf. “Bloody hell,” Gavin murmurs, and Ryan’s eyes peek open. “Ryan, you’ve gotta see this.”

“Oh, do I?” Ryan growls. His eyes open all the way, and when Gavin looks over at him, he’s glaring.

“Yeah,” Gavin answers, but he’s hesitant to even say that. Something’s not right.

Ryan snorts and turns his head away. “Well, I’m glad you’re finally back,” he mutters, and it’s so sarcastic and bitter that Gavin actually reels a little.

“What?”

Ryan’s head whips back around. “Seriously?” he demands. “No, seriously?” When Gavin doesn’t answer, just stands there with his arms against his sides, Ryan surges to his feet. “Six days, Gavin. _Six fucking days_. That’s how long it’s been since you last _spoke_ to me. And now you’re Chatty McGee over there? Fuck that.”

Gavin’s eyes widen, and his lips part in surprise. _Six days?_ he wonders, watching Ryan pace across the room. Ryan’s eyes are rimmed in shadow and his skin is the paleness of exhaustion. Gavin twists his lips into a frown. “Maybe you should get some sleep,” he suggests, and when Ryan freezes he realises that was exactly the wrong thing to say.

“Really? I should ‘get some sleep’?” Ryan repeats furiously, hands spreading wide. “Well that sounds like a fucking great idea, Gavin, because it’s also been six days since I’ve had a proper goddamn sleep, thanks very much.”

“I... I don’t...”

“No, of course _you fucking don’t._ You wouldn’t have a goddamn clue, because you’ve slept like a fucking baby.”

“Well why didn’t you wake me up, you tosser?” Gavin spits back, angry himself, now. He doesn’t know why Ryan is being so pissy about it, but he doesn’t like it.

“Because the one time I had you on watch, you nearly got us killed!” Gavin’s mouth snaps shut when Ryan jabs the air towards him with a finger. He doesn’t remember ever being on the watch. “A damn Infected walked right up to us! The only reason we got out of that is because it tripped on me on its way to you and woke me up! You weren’t paying attention, and it nearly killed us both!” Ryan’s hands clench and Gavin thinks he’s going to continue, when suddenly his entire body sags like the fight was literally the only thing keeping him up.

“Forget it,” Ryan mutters. “Just... Forget it. You clearly don’t care about anything at the moment, so nothing I say is going to change it. I just need to rest.”

Gavin’s blood runs cold and it’s like flood gates open. “‘Don’t care’?” he asks. “Let’s not get this buggered up, here, Ryan, it’s not me that doesn’t care.” Ryan’s new stare at him is incredulous. “Geoff and Griffon are _dead_. They _died_ getting us here, and it’s _my naffing fault_ , but you don’t give a toss about that!”

“I haven’t had a fucking _chance_ to mourn them, Gavin, I’ve been taking care of _you_!”

“I don’t _want_ you to take care of me! I killed them! I killed Geoff and I killed Griffon and I wish you’d left me there to die with them!”

Ryan’s mouth, already open to yell back, audibly clicks shut. Gavin bites his lip and looks away, the fight drained out of him. “Gavin,” Ryan answers, voice suddenly soft and soothing. “You didn’t kill them. It’s not your fault.”

“Isn’t it?” Gavin asks bitterly. He hugs his arms to his chest and half turns away, hunching inwards. “I’m not stupid, Ryan, despite what I pretend. I know how disease works. I know you don’t have to have symptoms to be carrying it. And I know Geoff only started getting sick after I got attacked by that Infected before El Paso.”

Ryan sighs heavily and wipes a hand over his face. “You don’t know that was what started it.”

“Don’t I?” Gavin insists, taking a step towards him. “When else would it have been? He was already sick when we got to El Paso. I could be a carrier, Ryan, _you_ could be a carrier. What if we have it? Christ, what if we gave it to Lindsay and Jack--”

“No!” Ryan shouts, cutting Gavin off in surprise. “No,” he says again, quieter. “You can’t think like that, Gavin. They are _fine_. Wherever they are, they’re all fine, and _you did not kill anyone._ ”

And before Gavin can speak again, tears welling up and spilling over his cheeks, Ryan is beside him and pulling him into his chest, letting him cling to his coat and cry his eyes out. And over and over again Gavin whispers, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” into the fabric, and Ryan just clutches him tighter.

When his tears finally dry up, Gavin squeezes himself closer for a moment and murmurs, “I won’t do it again, Ryan, I promise,” voice muffled against Ryan’s chest. “I won’t leave you like that again.”

Ryan is silent for a long time, but just before Gavin is about to pull away, he whispers back, “Don’t. You can’t do that, Gavin, I can’t handle that again. We have to be in this together.” Then he lets Gavin go, and Gavin moves away, nodding.

“I promise,” Gavin tells him quietly. “Go sleep. I’ll check we’re safe.” Ryan hesitates, eyes searching his face as though expecting to see a lie, but then nods, and goes to a corner of the room where he curls up and closes his eyes. He’s asleep in moments. Gavin does as he’s said, and quietly moves around the warehouse room checking every single spot he can find. There are no Infected anywhere, and only two doors. Gavin double checks the one they came in through and finds it secure, then moves to the other.

This one has a slightly larger window, though it’s barred. Gavin can see through it to another section of the warehouse, dim and empty, and utterly still. This door is barred, too, and doesn’t shift when Gavin tries to shove it. The walls feel strong and thick, and the roof is intact, and by the end of his inspection he’s confident it’s more than safe, so he moves to Ryan and sinks down beside him to cuddle in close.

Ryan half wakes with the movement, but Gavin murmurs, “It’s all safe, just sleep,” and Ryan needs no further prompting. It’s still broad daylight outside, can’t be later than two in the afternoon, but they sleep anyway.

Gavin wakes once, briefly, and moves to look through the peephole. It’s become dark outside and Gavin can see a few Infected moving about, but all is quiet and Ryan needs to sleep longer, so he goes back to him. He doesn’t wake again until morning.

 

* * *

 

Ryan stirs before Gavin does, but he jerks awake so suddenly that he elbows Gavin in the ribs and startles him awake, too. By the time Gavin figures out what’s happening, Ryan is already on his feet and staring wildly about, panting heavily. Gavin pushes himself up and goes to his side, laying a hand on Ryan’s arm, but Ryan flinches away from it.

“Hey,” Gavin murmurs. “It’s alright, we’re safe. We’re safe here.” Ryan is breaking out in a cold sweat, shivering, but he nods and takes a deep breath. “Sit down,” Gavin tells him, and Ryan obeys. “Let’s have some food, yeah?”

Ryan does settle down a little while they eat, but it takes him actually going to check the doors for himself before he calms completely. Gavin can’t watch him do it. He feels too guilty, he feels that guilt pile on top of all the rest of it and desperately wants to hunch in on himself and forget about where he is and what he’s doing. It’s only with great mental effort that he stands up and moves to stand in front of Ryan and smile. He promised, after all.

“Want to help me check out everything in this room?”

Ryan blinks and looks around himself, and takes in everything Gavin had seen last night. Metal shelving lines one wall, and on it rests rifles and shotguns and pistols, and a whole pile of ammo to go with it. There’s even a chainsaw on the bottom shelf, and it’s full of gas when Ryan checks. An old desk is tucked into a corner next to the shelves with first aid kits sprawled across it, and a neat line of Molotov cocktails beside. Underneath the desk, though, that’s what makes Gavin most excited.

“Food!” he crows, and crouches down to look closer. “Bloody hell, Ryan, look.” He grins up over his shoulder and waves him over. “Bring my pack.” Ryan does, and crouches next to him while Gavin digs in his pack for cans of beans, and adds them to the pile.

“What are you doing?” Ryan asks when Gavin replaces the beans with tins of tuna, some tubs of trail mix, and what appear to be survival rations.

“I’m not going to take it all and not leave something,” Gavin murmurs. “I’m just sick of beans. But what if someone gets here after us and doesn’t have any food at all?”

Ryan rocks back on his heels and stands, holding a hand out for Gavin to help him up again too. “That’s... That’s really good of you, Gav. I don’t think most people would think of that.” Gavin beams, and puts one of the trail mix tubs out on the desk, and turns his attention to the walls.

He’d noticed the night before that there was scrawled writing everywhere, but it’s only now that he dedicates the time and concentration on reading it. It all seems to be from people who have passed through, and the more he reads the more he realises how little everyone knows about what’s going on.

_CEDA evacuating out of Tucson!_ one reads, but it’s crossed out viciously and underneath is scrawled, _IT CAME FROM THERE. DO NOT GO THERE._

Some are notes from one survivor to another. Someone tells Kylie that they’re heading north. A note signed by Josh apologises for leaving someone and hopes when they meet up again they’ll be forgiven.

Taking up a huge chunk of wall, someone has carefully written out, _“For you yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord so comes as a thief in the night. For when they say, 'Peace and safety!' then sudden destruction comes upon them, as labor pains upon a pregnant woman. And they shall not escape" - 1 Thessalonians 5:2-3._ Gavin turns away from this, and freezes.

There, beside the door with the barred window, is a list of names, headed with _RIP_ in wobbly letters, a black marker nailed to the wall with twine. Gavin can’t breathe, he stumbles backwards, doesn’t want to read the names, doesn’t want to think about the people he’s lost, who he might lose. He squeezes his eyes shut and moves to Ryan’s side further along the wall.

_Met a soldier. San Francisco is gone, they bombed it. Ships and planes leaving from Los Angeles._ Ryan is frowning at it, and Gavin tries to recalculate their route, only to pull up short.

“Ryan,” he murmurs. “Where exactly are we?”

“Phoenix,” Ryan answers. “West edge. Tried to take us around, but the Infected drove us here.” Gavin hums and fishes for the map, which he lays out flat on the desk. Ryan joins him.

The map itself cuts off at the Arizona-California border, but Ryan points out a highway and traces it from Phoenix to the map edge. “This one,” he says. “That takes us straight to L.A.” Gavin nods.

“Not sure about following a highway, though,” he murmurs. “Gonna have a bollock-load of wrecked cars and Infected.”

“It’s a straight line,” Ryan argues. “Plenty of towns, we might find more safe rooms. We’re going to be heading exactly that direction anyway.”

“If L.A. is even evacuating, still.”

“We have to try. It’s the best option right now.”

Gavin hums, and finally nods. “Yeah, alright.” He glances up at Ryan next to him, and notices how tired he still looks. “But we’re going to stay here for at least another night.”

Ryan frowns. “What? No, we don’t have time. This is already nearly a two-week walk!”

“Yes,” Gavin agrees, “but you’re bloody exhausted, look at you.” Ryan sighs and hangs his head, and Gavin moves to take his hand and squeeze his fingers, voice softening. “Look. I monged it up badly,” he adds. “But you have to let me help fix it. We’re safer here than we have been anywhere else, we can take the time to rest.”

Ryan looks down at their fingers tangled together, and then up to Gavin’s face. He eventually nods, and Gavin smiles. Hesitantly, Ryan turns to face him properly and slowly leans in to lightly kiss his lips. Gavin smiles even wider and squeezes his hand tighter, before pulling away to finish surveying the room.

They snack on trail mix during the day, talking a little more and a little easier as the time passes. Ryan naps again in the afternoon and wakes up to Gavin staring at the list of names on the wall. He startles Gavin out of his reverie when he moves.

“You know,” Ryan says carefully, “I didn’t hang out with the Ramseys much outside of working with Geoff. But you guys got up to some crazy stuff, yeah?” Gavin takes a deep shaking breath and nods. “How about you tell me about some?”

Gavin thinks for a moment. Part of him wants to refuse, wants to tell him it’s too painful and to beg him to drop it. Then again, he thinks, Geoff and Griffon deserve good stories told about them, and he can’t stand in the way of that, too. So he launches into a retelling of his adventures with the Ramseys that lasts for hours. Ryan laughs in all the right places, says all the right things, and even though Gavin is pretty sure Ryan has heard most of these stories before, Gavin appreciates it anyway.

He stops when Ryan falls asleep again and goes to check the doors for the night. He sees nothing through the peephole, which is reassuring, and the warehouse on the other side of the second door is quiet too. It’s a little disconcerting, Gavin thinks, that this one room seems to be so safe when they’ve spent weeks running and hiding, and when they had to fight so hard just to get here.

Eventually he curls up next to Ryan and yelps when Ryan shifts and pulls him in close. “Stay,” Ryan murmurs sleepily. Gavin looks up at him from where he’s now encapsulated between Ryan’s legs and chest, and smiles softly.

“Okay,” he whispers, and snuggles in. Ryan doesn’t respond, just drifts back to sleep, but Gavin can’t help but think that maybe he’s been forgiven faster than he would have been able to do if their positions had been reversed. He doesn’t want to linger on it, doesn’t want to give himself the wrong idea, but Gavin can’t stop thinking about that kiss. It was nothing, he tells himself, just Ryan reassuring him, but Gavin mentally leaps onto the flare of hope he gives himself and desperately holds it close.

The problem is that Ryan has had days and days of nothing from Gavin. No words, no help, nothing. For Gavin, it’s been maybe two days since Ryan had backed him against a wall and kissed him hard, two days since Gavin had been so, so tempted to let Ryan help him break his promise to Griffon. Gavin is still feeling that frustration, and every tiny thing like a simple kiss is making it worse.

Hell, just thinking about it makes Gavin’s jeans a touch tight and uncomfortable. He bites his lip and shifts slightly, willing it away, and Ryan doesn’t wake. It takes longer than he’d like to settle enough to finally sleep.

Waking the next morning is easier this time on the both of them. When Gavin checks the peephole, the sky outside is dark with grey storm clouds. He sighs and turns around. “Gonna rain, Rye,” he says. Ryan glances up at him from where he’s checking over his guns.

“Oh?” He moves over to join Gavin by the door and looks for himself. “Good.”

“ _Good?_ ” Gavin repeats, confused. “Remember the storm in Deming? Infected everywhere.” Just as he finishes talking, he can hear the first few drops of rain spatter down outside. He looks through the peephole again, and says, “This could be a nightmare.”

“Nah,” Ryan answers, and Gavin turns around to argue with him only to pull up short.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Gavin asks, because Ryan’s coat and shirt are off and he’s unzipping his jeans to shuck them off too. Gavin flushes bright red and his mouth fills with saliva. He swallows it down, but it’s not easy.

“We haven’t showered in days. I just want to get a little cleaner.” Ryan pulls his boots and socks off, but the socks stay in his hand. And Gavin should be more concerned, should tell him no, but the thought of watching an essentially naked Ryan in the rain is too much to pass up, so he nods and goes to grab his carbine from where it’s resting against a wall.

“I’ll keep watch, then,” he tells Ryan, and Ryan grins.

“I hope so,” he says lowly, and winks, and Gavin blushes harder and stutters. Ryan carefully opens the door and steps outside into the downpour. He’s drenched instantly, uses the rain to wash his socks, then scrubs his hair with his hands as much as he can. The rain makes his briefs cling to his skin, and Gavin makes a concerted effort to keep an eye out for Infected rather than looking at the curve of Ryan’s arse or the line of his cock.

Ryan isn’t out there long, just enough to satisfy himself. He comes back into the room and lays out his socks in a corner to dry. “You should do it, too,” he tells Gavin, reaching for the carbine. Gavin hesitates, because his jeans are feeling too tight right now and he doesn’t want Ryan to know, but getting even a little bit cleaner would be great. He very subconsciously strips inside and then steps into the rain, the cold sucking the air from his lungs. Vaguely he hears Ryan chuckle while he desperately scrubs himself as clean as he can with his hands and rainwater, his own briefs sticking uncomfortably wet and close, and the moment he thinks he can he darts back inside and lets Ryan close and bar the door behind him.

The small room and its lights – it must be getting powered by a generator somewhere – and the fact that two people have been living there for two days means the air is much warmer inside than out, and Gavin’s skin dries remarkably quickly. Soon it’s just his underwear that’s damp, and Gavin is tempted to just put clothes back on over them except he’s pretty sure that it would be too much for his crotch to take right now.

Ryan has folded clothes into piles and put them on the desk anyway, and when Gavin glances over he sees Ryan watching him, eyes roaming over skin and lingering in all the important places. Gavin blushes again – _Christ, I’m ridiculous_ , he thinks – and clears his throat, and Ryan’s eyes sharpen like a predator’s like they did that first time in the hotel. Gavin could get used to that look, he really could. The air is hot and electric for a moment before Ryan seems to come to a decision, and strides straight over and none-too-gently shoves Gavin back into solid wall.

Gavin gasps in pain and groans a moment later when Ryan’s mouth attacks his, the smooth slide of his tongue a delicious contrast against the sharp nips of his teeth on lips and the rough shifting of fabric as Ryan’s hips roll into his.

“Been driving me crazy,” Ryan mutters against Gavin’s jaw as he sucks his way along it.

Gavin wraps his arms around Ryan’s shoulders and slides one hand into his hair to tighten briefly each time Ryan rubs their cocks together. “That’s bloody rich,” he gasps, head thrown back against the wall to give Ryan access to his throat. Ryan doesn’t answer, just moves back up to kiss him again, open-mouthed and hot and wonderful.

Gavin’s hand keeps tightening in Ryan’s hair, and his other keeps nicking skin with nails. Ryan must get sick of it, because his own hands reach over his shoulders to grab Gavin’s, and pull them away. He pins Gavin’s hands loosely above his head with one, and uses his other to slide right into Gavin’s briefs and wrap around his cock.

“Oh, shite,” Gavin moans. Ryan’s hand is so hot around him, especially compared to the cold damp of cloth, and Gavin can’t help but thrust up in the hopes of getting even closer. Ryan chuckles to pull away and swipe a long lick down his palm before returning to stroke once, twice. Gavin’s moans are swallowed into Ryan’s mouth, and he wriggles his wrists a little, desperate to touch in return. Ryan holds him tighter and moves to mouth around chest hair at Gavin’s nipples, biting gently and lapping with soothing tongue.

“I’ve seen you watching me today, Gavin,” Ryan murmurs against his throat when he moves back up, pulling his hand out of Gavin’s briefs. He straightens and moves his hand to Gavin’s back, playing over vertebrae with light fingers. “Saw you out in the rain, already half hard.” In the back of his mind, Gavin wants to be embarrassed by it, but Ryan is close and it’s good, so good.

“Couldn’t help it,” Gavin manages. “Was like my own private show, Rye.”

“Jesus,” Ryan breathes, pulling his hand from his back and parting his lips with the pad of his thumb. “I want to fuck you so badly.”

Gavin is a little ashamed about how quickly and eagerly he nods, tongue flicking out to lick at Ryan’s thumb. “Yeah,” he answers, utterly breathless. “Yeah, do that.” And he draws Ryan’s thumb into his mouth with teeth and tongue to suck properly. Ryan releases his hands from above his head and Gavin drops them instantly to Ryan’s hips to pull them in close.

“Hold this,” Ryan tells him, and touches a condom wrapper to one hand. Gavin is so startled he laughs around Ryan’s thumb and lets it fall out of his mouth. He takes the condom.

“Where did you have this?” he asks.

“Had it held in the band of my underwear,” Ryan answers. “Less talking, more moaning. I want to hear you enjoying this.”

“You already told me I’m mouthy,” Gavin murmurs, but he grins and grabs Ryan’s hand back to suck on more fingers, moaning pointedly around them, just because he’s nice. Ryan grins back and leans in to kiss his jaw, and lets Gavin suck for a while before pulling his fingers free and tugging down Gavin’s underwear. The freedom from wet cotton is more a relief than anything, and Gavin desperately kicks them away from around his ankles and rolls his cock up against Ryan’s thigh.

Ryan’s fingers slide behind him to tease his arse, and one fingertip presses inside. It’s uncomfortable, and Gavin’s face must show it because Ryan pulls it out immediately.

“I don’t have--” he starts at the very moment Gavin says, “More spit, it’s fine,” and Ryan spends the next few minutes covering his fingers in saliva while Gavin pats at his still-clothed cock and sucks his neck. It’s easier when he tries again. Not a lot, but enough, and he very slowly works three fingers into Gavin, who whines and squirms desperately around him.

“Come on,” Gavin finally pleads. “Ryan, I want it, I _need it_ , you’re killing me.” Ryan complies and tugs his own briefs down and off, and Gavin tears open the condom wrapper and puts it on him with shaky hands before reaching behind himself with lightly lubed fingers to swirl it around his arse. The image of it must work for Ryan, because he groans and slides his hands down to behind Gavin’s thighs, and heaves him upwards and more against the wall to hold him there.

Gavin yelps and instinctively wraps his legs around Ryan’s hips and grabs for his shoulders to keep himself in place. “Christ!” he yells. “Careful!” But he pulls himself in as close as he can with his back braced against the wall while Ryan holds one hip with one hand and guides his cock with the other. Gavin keeps himself as relaxed as possible as Ryan slowly, half-inch by half-inch, presses inside.

“Lucky you’re so thin,” Ryan groans as he rolls his hips out then in. Gavin wants to tell him they can move, but just the knowledge that Ryan is holding him there, trapped between the wall and his body while Ryan fucks him is kind of stalling his brain, and he can’t do anything but bury his face in Ryan’s neck and clench around him every time he moves.

It’s slow, the position demands that it’s not as frantic as Gavin thought this first time might be. Even so, Gavin feels like his whole body is on fire, tightening with pleasure starting from the point Ryan’s cock hits each thrust and radiating outwards until Gavin is shaking and desperate. Ryan is panting by his ear, grunting with each exertion, and Gavin wants to come so badly, feels tense and hot and _good_ , so he drops one hand from Ryan’s shoulder to his own cock flush between their bellies and strokes.

“Fuck,” Ryan curses as Gavin tightens even more around him, and Gavin moans in response. It’s like he’s consumed by flames inside and suddenly his whole body spasms and he comes over his fingers, splattering on Ryan’s stomach and chest and curling in to pant against Ryan’s collarbone while his body shivers in the aftershocks.

He doesn’t even realise that Ryan has come as well until he stops shaking and finds himself held against the wall simply because Ryan’s body, when it’s slumped, has pinned him there. Gavin smiles softly and kisses gently at his ear, and Ryan shudders and slips his arms around Gavin’s waist to hold him tight before pulling back from the wall and sinking to the floor.

And it’s there, Ryan lying on his back on the floor with Gavin seated above him, back against the wall and cock buried in his arse, that they try to catch their breath. It hasn’t been very long at all when Gavin moves to let Ryan out of him. Ryan frowns and tenses as though he’s about to sit up, but when he doesn’t, Gavin takes the condom off for him and ties it to set it aside.

“Thanks,” Ryan murmurs, eyes closed. Gavin smiles again.

“It’s fine,” he answer, leaning down to lie over him and kiss lightly and sweetly along Ryan’s jaw to his lips. Ryan smiles back in response, and they lie there for awhile, perfectly content and, of all things, comfortable.

Then Gavin thinks of something and barks a laugh against Ryan’s chin. “Hmm?” Ryan asks, and Gavin grins.

“I used to joke to Michael that I’d want to be with you in a zombie apocalypse, and look at us now.” But he regrets it the second he says it and seizes up, grin fading from his face and eyes becoming wide and panicked. He can’t stop seeing Geoff and Griffon covered in blood. He can’t stop seeing Michael and Lindsay and Ray and Jack grey and groaning, wandering aimlessly. Then he’s shaking and hyperventilating, and Ryan surges upwards and grabs his cheeks firmly with his palms to force their eyes to meet.

“Hey, hey,” Ryan says. “Look at me, look,” and Gavin is nodding desperately, trying to pull air into his lungs as tears start streaming down his face. “You’re alright, Gav, everyone is alright, I’m here, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gavin gasps, grabbing for Ryan’s chest for something to hold. And slowly, staring into Ryan’s eyes until they’re all he can see, he calms down and his tears stop and he can breathe. He shudders and slumps and Ryan pulls him in close to hug. “’m sorry,” Gavin murmurs. “I ruined it.”

“No, no,” he hears Ryan answer. “You didn’t.” Ryan squeezes him tighter.

“I won’t leave you again, Ryan, I promised.”

“I know, Gav, I know. Come on, let’s get you dressed.” So Gavin climbs off him and lets Ryan help him back into clothes, and watches while Ryan dresses too. Then Ryan distracts him for the whole afternoon by reconfirming their plans to head west and to L.A. when they leave.

“I just want to be sure it makes sense to you,” Ryan tells him. “You’ve done better than me with this stuff so far.” Gavin shakes his head, but Ryan grins. “You have. I just got us stuck in Phoenix.”

Gavin hesitates and slowly says, “Yeah, but look at this palace,” and when Ryan beams and laughs, Gavin decides it’s worth it.

 

* * *

 

They pack quickly in the morning. Gavin slips a Molotov cocktail into a side pouch of his pack and pockets a lighter from the table, and goes to stand by the door while Ryan finishes with his things. His eyes keep drifting to the memorial wall covered in names, and he doesn’t even notice Ryan has joined him until he murmurs, “Gavin,” behind him. Gavin starts and looks at him, and Ryan’s eyes flick between him and the wall, a clear question.

Gavin swallows. “I want...” He pauses and clears his throat to try again. “I want to put them here. I want people to come through here and see them and know that they helped us get here. But I don’t want this to be where I leave them.”

Ryan nods like he understands, and Gavin almost thinks he does. “You don’t leave them here, Gavin. You take them with you. You can write their names on every single wall in the world and they’ll still be with you.” Gavin hums. “And they would be happy either way.” He pats Gavin’s shoulder and moves away.

And Gavin stands there for only a minute more before he picks up the hanging marker and carefully writes _Geoff Ramsey, Griffon Ramsey_ on the wall. Then he moves back to Ryan and together they open the door out to the rest of the warehouse, and leave their safe room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to tumblr's [imaginecrocodiles](http://imaginecrocodiles.tumblr.com/) for [this amazing art](http://imaginecrocodiles.tumblr.com/post/136756738788/happy-birthday-to-the-freewood-fic-that-fucked-my), given on this fic's birthday. It focuses on a glimpse of this chapter and I'm still blown away by it. Thank you!


	5. The Motel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin watches the spectres of Geoff and Griffon lumber alongside him. Then Ryan gets hit clear across the street by a monster, and if there's one thing Gavin can't deal with, it's losing him too. Gavin doesn't know if he's ready to see what's at the end of this journey, yet, but he does know he wants Ryan there.

The next few days of walking are brutal on them both. Gavin was right – a fact that surprises even himself – and the highway out of Phoenix is a mess of abandoned cars and a minefield of Infected. He hates it. Every turn is a risk, they can’t see Infected until they round a car and land on one, and the space is too cramped for Gavin to use his carbine properly. He takes to slinging it behind him and holding on to his pistol, but he’s quickly running out of the reserve bullets they’d snagged in Deming.

Nights are terrifying. Each evening Gavin leads them off the road to find an open space to sleep in, but each time one of them has to fire a gun the other wakes up, and it’s a restless few nights. And being back out in the open is hard on Ryan most of all. On the second morning, he wakes up with a scream and leaps to his feet, and starts firing his gun out towards the road. Gavin yells at him to stop and grabs for the gun when he doesn’t. It’s the wrong thing to do. Ryan elbows him in the face and swings the gun on him when Gavin stumbles back, hands clutching his nose, and it’s only then that Ryan freezes and drops the gun to the ground, spewing apologies while Gavin tries to stop the bleeding, pained tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

Eventually the road does start clearing again, and it’s easier to see between the cars as they walk, but the sleeplessness and stress is getting to Ryan badly, and Gavin wants nothing more than to just have a safe space to sleep for even one night.

Gavin himself isn’t doing well either. Ryan had been right, too – Geoff and Griffon weren’t left on the safe room wall, they still drag themselves along by his side, knives in their chests and skin drooping. Late one afternoon Gavin, in desperation, actually wishes they _had_ stayed there, and is instantly filled with such horror and guilt that his knees give out and he splatters vomit over the tarmac in front of him. He shakes on his knees for a little while, Ryan trying to soothe him with gentle rubs on his back, until he can lurch back up to his feet.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

“Geoff?” Ryan asks, and Gavin nods.

“Yeah. I’m okay, I’ll be fine,” and resolutely starts forwards again, determined to ignore the corpses stumbling beside him in his mind, because he promised he’d keep going. He’s just glad Ryan doesn’t bring it up again.

And finally, _finally_ , they find a bridge that crosses the Colorado River, and find themselves stumbling through fields upon fields of overripe corn and cotton coating the ground, and into a small town on the border. Their map cuts off here, and now they’re walking blind, relying on the sun and road signs, and the idea worries Gavin. They’ve done fine so far, but what if he screws this up? He glances to Ryan, dragging his feet, and realises that he can’t, he won’t, because if nothing else he’s getting Ryan to safety and that’s that.

So he smiles reassuringly and gently lays a hand on Ryan’s arm, trying to ignore the flinch Ryan gives before he catches himself, and says, “Let’s find a safe place to sleep tonight.”

It doesn’t matter that the sun is still high and they still have days of walking to go. The last town they’d found had risen into view after about an hour of walking after waking one morning. Gavin has been angry at first, but when they kept moving that day and didn’t find anywhere else for that night, he had been furious. He’s not letting that happen this time.

Ryan nods at Gavin’s plan and smiles back in gratitude, and they carefully pick their way through a few streets to find somewhere that looks secure. And it’s just as Gavin sees an elementary school and grins and points that the ground starts rumbling, and they both freeze.

“What the fuck?” Ryan asks, and then a stream of Infected come around the corner and run towards them. Gavin fumbles his pistol and goes for his carbine, is too slow, and only just manages to pull it up as the first Infected reaches him, but it doesn’t matter. The Infected run past and around them, swatting at each other and pushing each other out of the way, but ignoring Gavin and Ryan entirely. “Okay, what the _fuck?_ ” Ryan starts to say again, but is cut off by a huge roar and the ground shaking again.

Horrified, Gavin watches as an honest-to-God monster rounds the same corner the Infected had, and actually charges at them, still roaring. “ _Shiiiiit!_ ” Gavin screams, and opens fire, and watches as it just absorbs every bullet without so much as twitching. They run backwards, still firing, and the monster keeps coming, running like an oversized gorilla on its knuckles and knocking cars aside like flies with hands Gavin swears are the size of his torso.

Ryan is chanting, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” every time he fires a bullet, and Gavin can see they actually are causing damage, the damn thing is bleeding, it just doesn’t act like it _at all_.

“This thing is a bloody _tank_!” he screams, splitting away from Ryan as the monster charges them again, swinging its arms. Ryan isn’t fast enough, and time slows down for Gavin to see every single tenth of a second as one of the monster’s fists connects with Ryan’s chest and sends him flying. He crashes to the ground and doesn’t move, and Gavin’s blood runs cold, and watches the monster turn away from him to run towards Ryan’s still figure.

“Ryan!” he screams, and drops his gun, fumbling for the Molotov cocktail in his pack and pulling the lighter out to start it, hoping to Christ it will turn the monster towards him and leave Ryan alone. In desperation he throws the bottle and it smashes on the monster’s back and ignites, flames spreading to engulf its body. It works. The monster pulls up short and turns, sees Gavin and roars and instead starts to charge at him.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Gavin crouches to pick up his carbine again and opens fire, and the monster still eats up the bullets while Gavin runs and dodges and fires, and it’s like the flames on its back have enraged it because it’s faster and more agile. Gavin is just starting to think he’s absolutely going to die here, after everything he’s survived, when the monster stumbles and falls to its knees and then topples over and lies still.

And then suddenly, it’s quiet. The ground is still and the echoes of roars die down, and Gavin’s heart is in his throat and his breath has stopped, and Ryan is still not moving. For an agonising moment Gavin can’t even move himself, until air jerks back into his lungs and he’s suddenly running to Ryan’s side and dropping to his knees next to him.

Ryan isn’t breathing. He’s not breathing and Gavin is panicking, he doesn’t know CPR, _why doesn’t he know CPR?!_ “No, no, not you too, please, _please_ ,” and his hands are shaking and hovering and his mental images of Geoff and Griffon are reaching out their own hands to Ryan. “You can’t have him, you can’t take him from me!” Gavin screams, tries swatting away their spectral arms, and he finally touches tentative fingers to Ryan’s face and Ryan gasps a breath.

“ _Christ_ ,” Gavin sobs, and strokes his hands down Ryan’s cheeks while Ryan groans and shifts, gasps and clutches his hands to his chest.

“Fuck,” Ryan breathes, and it’s the most beautiful word Gavin has ever heard in his whole bloody life. “I think it broke my ribs.”

Gavin is crying and laughing and he doesn’t know why, but he also can’t stop. “Don’t you _ever_ do that to me again, you mingy spaff!” he laughs, and Ryan’s face contorts in a grin lined with pain.

“Sorry,” he grunts. “Very inconsiderate of me.”

Gavin sniffles and nods. “Yeah, you’re damned right it was. Can you stand? We gotta get you inside, Rye.”

Ryan nods slowly. “Yeah, just...” Gavin gingerly helps him to his feet and slings one of Ryan’s arms over his shoulders for him to lean on.

“Come on, into the school,” Gavin says, scrubbing tears away from his face with his free hand. They limp to the school, and Gavin thanks Christ that the doors are unlocked. They struggle down corridors until Gavin finds a windowless office with a door that locks. The second the door is closed Ryan sinks gratefully to the floor against a wall by a desk, hands back against his ribs.

He’s in agony, Gavin realises, and he crouches down in front of him and digs in his pack for a first aid kit. He pulls out bandages and is about to pull Ryan’s coat off to apply them when Ryan reaches out and puts a hand on his to stop him.

“Can’t bandage rib injuries, Gav,” Ryan tells him. “I need ice. And painkillers.”

Gavin’s heart sinks. “Power’s out everywhere, where am I going to get ice?”

Ryan shrugs, but the movement must hurt because he winces. “Don’t worry. Just give me painkillers.” It’s with horror that Gavin looks in the kit and realises there are none. He chews his lip in silence for a second, then stands up.

“I’ll go find some.”

Ryan glares at him through the pain glazing his eyes. “You’re not going out there alone.”

“I _have to_. You can’t move like that, we’ll never get anywhere.” He hesitates. “I’ll be fine. Ten minutes, that’s all.”

“You don’t know where you’re going!”

“I can find my way back,” Gavin argues. “Ryan. Come on. You need something.” And he does, and Ryan knows that, so even though Gavin knows he hates it, Ryan nods. He beckons Gavin over, and pulls him down for a gentle kiss.

“Be careful.”

Gavin nods quickly and digs around in the desk drawers until he finds keys. He finds the one that unlocks the office door and pockets it, and picks up his carbine again. “Stay here,” he says, rather uselessly as Ryan isn’t about to move around, locks Ryan in, and leaves the school again.

The streets are quiet and empty, and Gavin is instantly suspicious. He’d like to believe that the monster has scared everything away, and its corpse – thankfully not moving – lies as a deterrent for anything coming back, but nothing on this journey has so far has gone the way he wanted. Gavin weaves along a couple of street blocks, keeping to the shadows cast by buildings and ducking his head around corners to check for Infected. His heart pounds in his ears and his breathing seems impossibly loud, but he isn’t attacked. The streets are legitimately empty right now. He almost can’t believe his luck when he finds a hospital and right there on the ground floor, windows smashed in, is a pharmacy.

He climbs into the building, stepping around glass, to wander the rows. It’s mostly picked clean of useful things like bandages and slings, but Gavin manages to find a bottle of aspirin and a few packs of paracetamol, which he shoves into his pocket. Now is the best time to get anything else helpful, he thinks, so despite the niggling in the back of his mind telling him to get back to Ryan _now_ , he stays. He grabs a bottle of iodine, shrugs and pockets a tube of lube, just in case, and then stumbles across instant cold packs, which he grabs with delight.

That’s enough, he decides, pockets bulging, so he clambers back outside and throws caution to the wind. He’s been away from Ryan long enough, and jogs all the way back to the school. Ryan is breathing deep and slow when he gets back. He hasn’t moved, but he looks up when Gavin walks in and locks the door again behind himself. “Open your coat,” Gavin says, holding up a cold pack triumphantly and squeezing it to start its internal reaction.

Ryan chuckles. “God, you’re amazing,” he says, and Gavin smiles and crouches back in front of him to help Ryan slide the pack against his skin. Ryan sighs with relief, and Gavin can see his side has already started swelling and is turning red.

“Going to be quite the bruise there, Ryan,” Gavin murmurs, and Ryan nods.

“Anything to keep things interesting.”

Gavin breathes a laugh and leans in to kiss him softly. “You scared me,” he whispers against Ryan’s lips. Ryan twists his mouth.

“Sorry,” he murmurs back. “Didn’t mean it. Won’t happen again.”

“Better not,” Gavin finishes, and pulls away to clear his throat awkwardly. “Right, well, get comfortable, because this is where we’re sleeping tonight.” Ryan doesn’t argue, just takes some pills from Gavin and downs them, and it turns out to be their most restful night in days.

The bruise on his ribs is damn impressive in the morning. Gavin suggests staying another night, but Ryan resolutely gets to his feet and tells him no. “We’re so close, Gav, so close. We can’t miss the flights going out of L.A.” Gavin is quietly furious, calls him a git and a mong and a million other words Ryan just laughs at, but he concedes and helps Ryan put his pack on and take some more painkillers before they set out again.

This time, Gavin leads them off the highway a short way so they can still follow the lines of the road without dodging cars. Miles pass by under their feet, and every now and then they cross a side road and see a sign telling them how far to Los Angeles they still have to go. Gavin thinks it should be reassuring, knowing how close they are, but by now they’re so exhausted it feels like they might as well be back in Austin.

Worse, Ryan is slower than normal. Moving too fast hurts him too much, so they walk at a slower pace than either of them would like. Better to be on the road an extra day than dead if Ryan can’t keep up. Every day they manage less and less distance, and every night it’s harder and harder to stay awake for a guard shift, and Gavin realises he’s nearly done. He’s nearly ready to give up.

And although the benefit of walking away from the road is that they have less Infected to deal with and fewer obstacles blocking their view, it also means that they don’t see any highway shops or trucker stops, and have no way of replenishing their supplies. So the fourth day after Ryan’s injury, they run out of food but for a few handfuls of trail mix. Gavin sighs as he passes Ryan the last tin of tuna, and nibbles on his own last cracker.

“Don’t worry,” Ryan tells him. “We’ll be hitting the L.A. suburbs soon.” And that’s true, Gavin knows, but it doesn’t make going to sleep hungry that night any easier, and nor does it make waking up still hungry the next morning any more enjoyable.

They keep their stomachs partially satisfied with water the next day, but nothing perks them up more than when they finally hit houses and find a corner store to break into to scrounge for any food people might have left. It worries Gavin how glad he is to eat a whole can of nothing but peas, but he is anyway. And of all things, it’s the room temperature bottles of soda that they enjoy the most, and even though the sugar hit is hardly the most practical thing, it cheers them up enough for them to move on happily enough.

The problem now is that they’re in suburbia, and there’s no such thing as a space without Infected, not anymore. Every single place Gavin tries for him and Ryan to hole up in for the night is just as infested as every other place, and eventually Gavin frowns and kicks a door and says, “We’re wasting time. Let’s just keep going.”

Ryan hesitates, and Gavin knows he’s got to be thinking about the six days he went without sleeping, so Gavin turns to him and rests a hand on his forearm. “Two days,” he soothes. “If we keep going we can be there in two days.” It’s this that actually sells Ryan, though, and he smiles a little and nods, so Gavin leads them onwards.

They try sneaking, they try hiding, they try everything to avoid confrontation with Infected, but eventually realise this too is just wasting time. There’s no choice but to press forward, fighting off screaming Infected as they go, hoping they’ll stumble across somewhere to safe to rest in.

It’s a miracle, Gavin thinks, when Ryan nudges him in a lull one night, and points. Red paint on a wall, in the shape of a house with a plus and an arrow, hard to make out in the dark. “You’re having a laugh,” he whispers, and they move to follow the arrows, packs suddenly lighter and actual _hope_ flooding into their chests.

Another painted picture in the middle of an intersection makes them adjust course, another reassures them they’re going the right way, and then buildings open up to a parking lot and there it is, a little motel, the house symbol painted on one of the room doors.

It seems like it’s too good to be true. They open the door cautiously, but very quickly realise that there is really nothing to be worried about. Someone has set this place up nicely. The window is boarded up with thick planks, just enough space between two for early moonlight to beam in, and there’s a makeshift door bar resting on the wall, just waiting to be slotted into place to secure the entrance. Gavin heaves it up and settles it down on the rungs someone has attached to the walls, then drops his pack and sinks to the floor.

Ryan is laughing, and it sounds almost hysterical. Gavin looks over and there is Ryan, sitting on an actual bed. Gavin groans with longing. After days and days of sleeping on floors, or on dirt and sticks and stones, the bed is probably the greatest thing he’s seen in a long time. He crawls over and flops down next to Ryan on the mattress, and feels Ryan lie down as well, and then he doesn’t feel anything until he wakes up to Ryan moving to stand up hours later.

“Rye?” he mumbles when Ryan walks to the door.

“Just having a proper look where we are.” Gavin scrambles to his feet to join him at the door, and together they walk out to the parking lot of the motel to look around. “Gavin,” he breathes, and points. From here, they can see for miles, and there on the horizon, light from the moon highlighting their edges, stretch shadowy buildings. “That’s L.A.”

“Christ,” Gavin says. “We’re so close.” He’s suddenly terrified. Part of him actually doesn’t want to get there, scared that there’ll be nothing there and no way out, and they’ll be stuck with nowhere to go. Part of him doesn’t want to miss anything that is there, no matter what it is, even if it _is_ nothing, he has to know. And part of him can’t help but wonder if they’ll even get there, even after coming this far. He reaches out to clutch Ryan’s coat sleeve. “Are we going to make it?” he asks.

Ryan pulls him close. “Yes,” he tells him, and he sounds so damn sure of himself that Gavin believes him. “We absolutely are going to make it.” Gavin nods and lets Ryan steer him back into the motel. Then Ryan hesitates and turns towards him. “Hey...”

“Mm?” Gavin hums.

“Do you... How do you feel about staying here? Just until morning.”

Gavin almost tells him no, tell him they’re getting there _now_. But he’s exhausted, too, and the final leg is probably going to be hell. He smiles. “I think that’s a great idea,” he ends up saying, and Ryan sags with relief. Gavin is instantly glad for his answer, and replaces the door bar. Right now Gavin wants nothing more than to have a shower, but the power and the water are both off when he checks, so he’s left hoping they’ll have a chance to get clean tomorrow when they arrive, assuming planes are still flying out and there’s running water _somewhere_.

So despite the dirt caked on them, with the moon giving them just enough light to see the labels on the cans of food they had taken from the corner store, Gavin is satisfied enough. It’s not much of a meal, but it’s the light hearted joking and laughing that Gavin has missed from Ryan in the last few days that makes it a feast. And the way Ryan smiles at him, the way he watches him when he talks, that makes Gavin’s heart pound and his face flush. It seems more than natural to Gavin, and in fact a rather damn good idea, when he takes Ryan’s hand and pulls him over himself on the bed.

Ryan is kissing him in an instant, and Gavin pulls him closer with hands curled in his coat front. Ryan kisses him lazily, tongue curving around his and lightly teasing. When he pulls away, he smiles. “What’s this about?” he asks.

Gavin shrugs, as much as he can with Ryan over him. “Just figured, you know, getting out of here tomorrow, we’re safe here, we have a nice bed, and you’re my lovely Ryan. I want you.” Ryan grins and leans down to kiss him again, and it doesn’t matter that they haven’t brushed their teeth in days, and that they can taste dirt and sweat and blood. “Grab my backpack?” Gavin asks, and Ryan obliges, bringing it over for Gavin to rummage through and pull out the tube of lube triumphantly.

“When did you...?” Ryan asks.

Gavin pulls out a condom as well. “When I got your painkillers,” he tells him, then pauses. “Um, are you..? How are your ribs?” Ryan hesitates and Gavin frowns, undoing Ryan’s coat and helping it off, throwing it on the floor with his jumper and shirt. Ryan’s chest is a mess of colour; deep reds and purples, some yellow around the very edges. It’s not really swollen anymore, but Gavin still winces in sympathy. When he reaches out to try and brush fingers against skin, Ryan flinches away. Gavin’s frown deepens. “Never mind, we shouldn’t. Not with you in this much pain.”

Ryan groans and leans back in to nibble and lick at Gavin’s neck. “I’m fine,” he insists. “And now you’ve got me started.” Gavin hesitates, but when Ryan rolls his hips down against his and twists his head to suck an earlobe, Gavin groans as well.

“Alright, alright, just...” He moves to sit up, and Ryan lets him. “You lay down.” Ryan blinks, then laughs.

“No arguments here,” he chuckles lowly, reclining onto his back. “Been imagining you riding me since El Paso.”

“Bloody hell,” Gavin breathes, and unbuttons Ryan’s jeans with trembling fingers to pull them off.

“Just, be careful with your knees,” Ryan cautions, and Gavin smiles and nods, and reaches to him to kiss him.

“I will,” he whispers, and trails his lips down over Ryan’s chin to his chest, and down further to mouth at his cock through underwear. Ryan bites his bottom lip but doesn’t make a sound, and Gavin looks up at him through lashes while he drags Ryan’s underwear down and tosses them aside.

“Gav,” Ryan groans when Gavin licks down his palm to slide fingers around the base of his cock.

“Don’t get too excited,” Gavin murmurs against his thigh. “You know I can’t do much down here. Gag reflex, yeah?” But he follows that up with a lick along the length, and Ryan shudders and gasps.

“You could just do that forever and I’d be happy,” Ryan says, and Gavin laughs and does one better by popping the head into his mouth and sucking slowly, swirling his tongue. He has to keep pulling away to pause and compose himself, but it seems to be working anyway because Ryan is trembling and twisting hands in sheets. Then, when Gavin is satisfied, he pulls away and strips.

“How long did you say you’ve been thinking of this?” Gavin asks, voice teasing while he opens the condom and slides it onto Ryan. He very carefully shifts to hover over Ryan’s hips and uncaps the lube.

“For fucking ever,” Ryan tells him, and Gavin grins like he’s pleased with himself and coats three fingers in lube before reaching behind himself to start fingering himself open. Ryan grabs the lube himself and squeezes some onto a palm, reaching out to take Gavin’s cock and stroke slowly.

“Christ,” Gavin moans, rolling his hips into Ryan’s hand.

“Fuck, you look good like that, Gav,” Ryan whispers, and for a split second Gavin considers just fucking himself between his own fingers and Ryan’s, and only just manages to pull his hand away to hold Ryan’s cock in place to lower himself onto it.

It’s so much easier this time, and Gavin thanks Christ he decided to take that lube because the smooth slide of Ryan’s cock going into him might just be the best bloody feeling ever. Ryan’s hand falters and he reaches out to grab Gavin by the hips to guide him down, and Gavin wants him to hold harder, wants little finger shaped bruises of his own when they leave later.

Actually, what Gavin wants more than anything is to brace himself on Ryan’s chest and just go for it, but with his ribs such a mess that’s not something he can do, so he tilts himself the other way to brace himself on his own heels instead. And it turns out that’s actually better anyway, because it slides Ryan’s cock at just the right angle inside him. Then Ryan’s hand moves back to stroke him again, and Gavin is torn, desperately fucking himself into Ryan’s fist and fucking himself open on the downwards stroke.

The wall in the last safe room was great, Gavin admits that happily. Something about Ryan’s show of strength and being pinned against the wall had definitely been the appeal there, but here he can build a solid rhythm, and Ryan is moaning a litany of, “God, Christ, fuck,” and Gavin is lost.

His orgasm actually hits him by surprise, hips suddenly stuttering and twisting while he comes over Ryan’s fingers and chest, and that sight alone is enough for Gavin to groan Ryan’s name and fuck himself past the point of comfort. But when he slows, Ryan actually sobs and his hands fly back to Gavin’s hips. “No, no, please, Gav, I’m so... I’m so close, fuck.”

Gavin goes back to his pace, hands moving and nails digging in to Ryan’s thighs and whispering, “Come on, Rye, come on.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ryan blurts, and the last one comes out strangled as his own hips jolt upwards, and the sudden flush along his face and chest and the tightening of fingers on Gavin’s hips tells Gavin he can ride it out and stop. It’s with trembling thighs that Gavin pulls himself up and away, lifting his knees far past Ryan’s chest to clear it safely. Eyes closed, trying to catch his breath, Ryan fumbles around to take the condom off, and Gavin can’t help but be a little impressed when he ties it sight unseen and drops it to the floor by the bed.

“I'll move it before we leave,” Ryan assures him, and Gavin just laughs tiredly and carefully lays down along his side. Wincing, Ryan rolls over to wrap his arms around him and keep him still, opening his eyes just enough to see to kiss Gavin’s temple. Part of Gavin wants to be bothered by the fact that he can feel the cooled come Ryan is inadvertently pressing against his skin, but the rest is too tired and satisfied to care. And given this is probably the last opportunity they’ll have in a long time, Gavin decides to enjoy everything about it.

He tries to say, “Get some more sleep,” but he himself is out before the words can form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christ, I actually officially have an ending in sight! Just one more chapter and an epilogue of sorts, and then we're done!
> 
> This is easily the longest thing I've ever published, and I hope you're still with me and the lads for the ending. :)


	6. The Airport

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not fair, Gavin thinks, that they should have come this far only to have Ryan staring down the barrel of a gun. Because even after walking for weeks, after being chased by Infected and splitting up from their friends, after losing Geoff and Griffon, they still have to get past PEOPLE.

Gavin wakes slowly, which is a luxury he hasn’t been afforded in weeks. Ryan is warm against his back, breath gently tickling the base of his neck where his nose is buried, and fingers holding his hips. It’s...nice, Gavin decides. It kind of scares him, a little, to think that the things he was so against – cuddling, hand holding – none of those matter when it’s Ryan. Gavin has held Ryan’s hand a lot over the last two weeks or so, after the Ramseys, and Ryan hasn’t once complained or joked or said anything about it. He just gives Gavin what he needs. Done. No discussion required. Gavin likes that.

He carefully rolls over to slot his nose and lips against Ryan’s cheek, kisses him softly, and pulls back to watch Ryan wake, too. For what must be the first time since leaving their safe room, Ryan doesn’t jerk awake. Instead, he drifts, eye lids fluttering and lips twitching, and when his eyes finally open he’s greeted with Gavin smiling widely.

Ryan smiles back and leans in to kiss his lips. “Good morning,” he murmurs sleepily.

“Good morning,” Gavin replies quietly.

They both know they have to go. Pre-dawn light is filtering into the window and it’s time, it’s today, they’re getting to the end of this trek. But despite that, they’re both so comfortable that at this moment, neither moves. It gives Gavin more time to think, and he very quickly realises he shouldn’t have.

He starts gnawing on his bottom lip, and when he accidentally lets out a concerned hum, Ryan’s eyes flick to him. “You okay?”

Gavin hums a yes, but it’s hesitant and he can tell Ryan isn’t sold. He frowns. “Will you... Will you do me a favour?”

“Yeah, Gav, of course,” Ryan answers, surprised. “Anything.”

Gavin hesitates again, and when he finally speaks it’s a whisper. “You’ll stay with me, right? When we get out of here? You won’t just leave me, will you?” He can’t bear to look at Ryan’s face, doesn’t want to risk seeing his rejection before the words come, but Ryan’s body stiffens slightly and that’s just as bad.

Gavin is just about to tell him not to worry about it, tell him that he gets it, he’s not the guy Ryan would have picked if he’d had the choice, when Ryan twists his fingers under his chin and turns his head to face him. “Yes, Gavin, of course I’ll stay with you. No, I’m not going to leave.” Ryan frowns deeply. “And you can’t leave me, either.”

Gavin only just manages to hold back embarrassed and relieved tears. He smiles a little and nods. “Yeah, okay. I won’t leave either.”

“Good,” Ryan says firmly, and sits up. “Come on. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

They dress and pack up what few things they had out, and Ryan moves the used condom to a bin in the corner while Gavin takes down the door bar. Carefully, he cracks open the door to look out into the parking lot. It’s basically empty, which is a pleasant surprise, so they leave the motel room and Gavin clicks the door shut behind him, before heading onwards to the Los Angeles skyline. It’s hardly any clearer in the pale morning light, but it feels closer.

Walking through the suburbs in the morning turns out not to be so bad. By the time the sun properly rises, they’ve barely been in any scuffles at all. For a few hours on their beeline to the city, they walk through a mix of green parklands and carefully maintained residential streets, and sometimes cross a flood control channel that seems to lead a winding path all the way in.

For all the bizarre cold they’ve been dealing with since they left Austin, Los Angeles is warm, very warm, and the sun has only been up for maybe two hours when they pause to catch their breath and remove their coats and jumpers. Sweat makes their shirts cling under their arms and against their backs, but the sight of Ryan flushed and sweating makes Gavin laugh and lightly dance to him to pull him down for a kiss.

It helps their mood a lot, cooler breeze playing over their skin, and it pushes back the trepidation they have about getting to the airport. If the rain of the last few weeks has drawn every Infected in a ten mile radius to them, the warm weather has then made them slow and soothed. Most that they see are uncaring, take a few half-hearted steps towards them and groan, hands outstretched, before giving up. A few well-placed bullets finishes off those that do make it to them, or those that seem more interested, but for the most part the harrowing trip towards the city proper that Gavin was expecting doesn’t seem to come.

Gavin decides they’re skirting the main part of the city anyway. It adds an extra hour or two, but the easier run with the city moving by on their right as they trek further towards the airport is worth it, Infected moving slowly around them as though moving through jelly. When the skyscrapers are safely behind them, melting into the background, Ryan grabs Gavin’s wrists and pulls him in again to kiss him fiercely. “Nearly there,” he whispers against Gavin’s lips, and Gavin grins widely.

“Nearly there.”

And it’s just when they see the sign that says _Los Angeles International Airport, 1.5 mi_ that three military jets suddenly take off and stream across the sky over their heads, and Gavin is taken back to those first two weeks when jets had shot over Austin and bombed airports on the east coast. But back then, Gavin hadn’t been in the middle of a city full of Infected.

He is this time, and they turn out to not appreciate the noise of the jets as they haven’t appreciated any other loud noise. One by one heads turn, and the Infected tremble and throw off whatever was keeping them sleepy and disinterested and slow, and Gavin and Ryan suddenly find themselves in the middle of a mess of Infected charging at them.

It’s such a surprise that Gavin actually chokes in fear and freezes, and it’s by only Ryan shoving him forwards by his shoulder and saying, “Run. _Run,_ ” that Gavin manages to move. And this is what Gavin had expected, Infected on their tail, screams slowly picking up and spreading through the horde until it’s a huge mess of noise and screeching behind them. And Ryan keeps yelling, “ _Run, Gavin, go, go!_ ” and Gavin’s heart is pounding out of his chest, and he’s terrified, tears prick in his eyes and they can’t die, not now, not when they’re so close, please, _please,_ he thinks.

But as they run, the commotion and the noise caused by the Infected draws even more out onto the streets, and this was why Gavin hadn’t wanted to be near the city or any main roads because it’s like the whole population of Los Angeles’ south-west suburbs is chasing them, screaming and clawing at their clothes and getting too close for comfort. They don’t even have time to turn and fire guns at the crowd, and all Gavin can hear is Infected and Ryan chanting, “Go, go, go,” beside him, jostling each other as they duck and weave.

Gavin doesn’t know how he does it, how he manages to run all that way with his lungs burning and his legs weak, but when they round a corner he can suddenly see the airport, runways stretching out in front of them, a huge metal and barbed wire fence and a giant gate surrounding it and makeshift towers dotting the line of it, and all that’s between him and Ryan and that airport is a field about half a mile long. It’s enough to reinvigorate them, they’re so close, and they even manage to pick up the pace, even though Gavin is certain his legs are going to give out at any moment. And then Gavin sees that the fence and towers are manned, and he throws up his arms and waves and screams, “ _Help! Help!”_

He sees the men suddenly burst into activity, they’re pointing and running and pulling guns up to shoulders, and from somewhere in the airport a siren starts blaring and a voice over an intercom says, “Infected, East Gate. Infected, East Gate.”

Ryan starts shouting, too, he screams, “ _Let us in!_ ” and it feels like a miracle when, half of the field to go, the giant gate shudders and rolls, and there’s a gap, only about three feet wide, but enough that Gavin knows he and Ryan will make it in, if only they can keep running, if only they can make it.

Then Gavin can hear the men lining the fence start yelling. Someone calls, “Fire!” and the bullets whiz around his head, he feels the heat of it and hears the zip of them before he even hears the crack of the guns. He flinches to the side and into an Infected, stumbles, flinches again when that Infected’s head splits with the force of a bullet, and just ahead of him Ryan darts through the gate.

There’s a rush of satisfaction and relief, _Ryan made it_ , and then he’s twisting his own body through and the gate rolls shut with a clang behind him as he lands in the dirt. He has just enough time to look back in horror at the Infected crashing against the other side of the gate and watch as one by one they start going down under a hail of bullets before hands pull him to his feet and there’s men in military camouflage pointing him after Ryan and yelling, “Go, keep going!” Ryan has more military men and women with him, pushing him into a building, and Gavin follows at a run.

When he bursts through the door into the building, more hands catch him and start pulling him, but there’s more people pulling at Ryan and they’re pulling them apart. And Gavin can’t lose Ryan, not now, not after everything, he’s not letting Ryan out of his sight, so he struggles. “ _Ryan!_ ” he screams, and Ryan turns to his voice and starts trying to fight his way over from the other side of the room.

“Gavin!” Ryan yells back. “Let me _go_! _Gavin!”_

But there’s so many people trying to keep them apart, and Gavin suddenly finds himself picked up by four guys who don’t let go even when Gavin thrashes his whole body. Ryan’s face darkens at the sight and he _roars_ , swinging a fist and landing a solid punch in a soldier’s face, who drops, and Ryan is halfway across the room to him when another man steps in front of him and presses a pistol barrel against his forehead.

Everyone freezes. Gavin can see the moment the man with the gun decides that he and Ryan aren’t worth the trouble, has half a breath drawn to scream, thinking how ironic it is that they’d come this far only to be killed by _people_ , when a door crashes open and a woman in officer clothes steps in and yells, “Stand down!”

Gavin could cut the tension in the room with a knife, but the man with the pistol slowly lowers it, and turns to face the woman.

“They came in _together_ , you idiots,” she says fiercely. “What in the hell makes you think they should be separated, or would be okay with that?”

“We have to get them into testing,” one of the soldiers says, and the officer turns her steely gaze onto him, and he flinches backwards.

“Then take them together. If one’s Infected the other is, too.” She beckons to Ryan, who quickly moves to her side, and the men holding up Gavin set him back to his feet. He runs over and Ryan gathers him into his arms.

“Take their weapons, at least,” another soldier mutters.

Ryan’s hold on Gavin tightens, and he growls, “You can pry my stuff from my dead fucking hands.”

The officer shrugs. “There you go. Leave them be.” Then she turns to Gavin and Ryan. “Right. Let’s go.”

Gavin doesn’t know what he thinks about this talk about being tested, but he’s pretty sure this woman just saved both of their lives, and he’s in no position to argue with her right now.

The building they’re in appears to be a set of offices, and the woman leads them down a corridor to a door plastered with biohazard signs. When she opens it, another woman is in there, a stethoscope around her neck and wiping down a metal bench, and she looks up and smiles. “Wow, new kids, huh?” It’s absurd, Gavin thinks, the change from the soldiers in the last room to this doctor, who is happy to see them, friendly, and talks to them like she doesn’t look years younger than Gavin. “I’m Tess, I’ll be checking you out. You look like you’ve been through hell.”

“Are you qualified?” Gavin blurts, shifting closer to Ryan’s side.

Tess laughs. “Yes, hon.” Gavin isn’t sure he likes that either. She beckons to Ryan. “Maybe you first, settle his nerves a bit.” Gavin can tell Ryan doesn’t trust her either, but he walks over. She does the normal things, heart rate and lungs and blood pressure, looks in his eyes, ears and throat. “Hm,” she murmurs, and she sounds surprised. “You locals?”

“Austin,” Ryan says. “Walked here.”

Tess whistles, and moves to Gavin to check him, too. “You guys are in good condition. Barely dehydrated, not too malnourished...” She grins up at the military officer. “They did good.”

“Good,” the officer responds. “Now blood.”

Tess busies herself, while Gavin turns to the officer. “Blood?” he squeaks.

“We’re not sending you out of here with people if you’re about to turn,” she says simply. Gavin pales, but he doesn’t see the point in arguing. Tess takes Ryan’s blood and prepares a new syringe, and then takes Gavin’s. She pats his shoulder.

“All done, hon.” She glances up at the officer. “They need rest.”

The officer nods. “I’ll take them to the barracks next door,” she says, and herds them out to take them to the next building.

The barracks turn out to be a small airport hotel, but when Ryan walks into the room and sees the bars on the window and that the inside door handle has been removed, he laughs humourlessly and turns around. “So we’re in quarantine,” he says bluntly. The officer shrugs.

“Taking all precautions. You’re not the first people to show up, and nor would you be the first to turn. It’ll be a few days at most, so get comfortable.”

“We want to go to England,” Gavin says suddenly. Now that they’re here, to be denied that seems cruel to him. “Is there...?”

“We’ve got a ship leaving in a few days,” the officer says. “If you check out, you’ll be on it.”

That’s relief enough, Gavin supposes, so he nods, and the officer closes the door. The lock clicks into place and Gavin heaves a huge sigh. “Bollocks.”

“Nothing we can do about it,” Ryan says with a sigh of his own. “But I guess we’ve got a few days to rest, now?” He glances towards the room’s small en-suite. “I reckon they’ll have power and water here, too. Want to check?” Gavin nods and shucks off his pack and lets it drop to the floor.

The bathroom is small, but clean, and clean water comes out of the tap when Gavin turns it on. Even better, when Gavin tests the shower, it runs hot. He grins, and hurries back out to the room. “Rye, it’s good. It’s _hot water_.”

“Thank god,” Ryan groans, and neither of them wastes any time stripping down and climbing into the tiny shower together.

“Christ,” Gavin moans, water pouring over his head. “That feels so bloody top.” Ryan hums agreement, and passes him a bar of soap from a little shower shelf. Gavin scrubs. Dirt and blood slide in a soapy mess from his skin and hair, and Ryan takes the soap to wash his back for him. Gavin returns the favour, and when they’re clean he hugs Ryan around the waist, cheek resting on his back while the shower water finally washes the dirt away down the drain.

It’s warm and comfortable, and Gavin feels his muscles relaxing. If he weren’t standing, he thinks he could fall asleep like this, skin to skin with Ryan, and finally safe. It’s this thought that breaks him. He’s been running on adrenalin and sheer force of will for weeks, and now that he’s safe, it melts away from him and he’s just a scared kid who lost his friends and family. He shudders and tears spill over his cheeks. Ryan must feel it, because wordlessly he turns to pull him into his chest and just lets him cry.

The water runs cold just as Gavin pulls himself together. “I’m good,” he murmurs, and Ryan just smiles and lets him go. The towels are fluffy and warm, and Gavin moves to the basin, glancing in the mirror and pulling up short. He barely recognises himself. His hair has grown a little, and it’s not carefully styled like he’s used to. He knew he’d grown his facial hair out, he’d had no choice, but what he has now is a beard. He glances over at Ryan, towelling himself dry, and realises that Ryan’s has grown out too and he’d just never paid much thought to it.

His lower eyelids are dark and look bruised. That will take a few solid weeks of proper rest, he figures. He’s lost weight too, he thinks, and even though Tess said he wasn’t malnourished, he thinks his cheeks are a little sunken.

Ryan opens a basin draw, and laughs softly. “Wonderful,” he murmurs, and when Gavin looks, Ryan pulls out a few toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste, and they both spend the next several minutes brushing their teeth. There’s a razor, too, and even though Gavin wants to feel stubble under his lips, he helps Ryan shave his beard off, and gets help with his own.

And for the first time since they left El Paso so many weeks ago, he feels clean.

There are a few pairs of black sweatpants and white t-shirts on the bed for them to put on. By the time they’re clean, the sun is going down, and Ryan doesn’t even talk when he goes to the bed and climbs under the cover. Gavin smiles and joins him, and they cuddle in close. Gavin runs his fingertips over Ryan’s smooth cheeks, tastes mint on his tongue when he kisses him, and smells soap when he curls into Ryan’s chest.

They wake suddenly but briefly when a soldier opens the door and leaves dinner on a bedside table, and don’t bother moving to eat it.

 

* * *

 

It’s two days of solid rest. They sleep a lot, and eat three hot meals each day even though their stomachs are unsettled by real food after weeks of beans and syrupy tinned fruit, and chat with the soldier that brings them their food. Then on the third day, the door opens and the officer who saved them walks in with Tess.

Tess holds out a file. “Results,” she says. Nothing on her face gives her away, and Gavin sits heavily down on the bed. Ryan grabs the file and offers it to Gavin. He shakes his head.

“I... I can’t. I don’t think...” He breathes deeply, and looks down at his hands, wringing his fingers together. “Geoff and Griffon, I don’t know if I can handle it if it says it was me.” Ryan sits beside him and takes one of his hands in his.

“Hey. Whatever it says, remember, you promised. You can’t leave me, yeah?” Gavin chuckles wetly, tears welling up.

“I remember.” He twists his lips. “Bloody hell. Alright. Can you do it?”

Ryan nods and Gavin squeezes his eyes shut. He hears Ryan flip the file open, and there’s a long pause. “Rye?” He peeks.

Ryan is grinning, and tears are shining in the corners of his own eyes. “We’re fine. Completely clear.”

Gavin almost doesn’t dare to believe it, but turns to face Ryan properly. “I’m not... I’m not even carrying it?”

Ryan laughs, and it’s the kind of laugh that Gavin recognises as coloured with the rush of giddy relief he’s feeling himself. “No.”

Gavin laughs as well, and drops to his knees on the floor between Ryan’s, and pulls him in close to hug tight around his stomach. Ryan’s hand tangles in his hair, and Gavin laughs again. “Christ. It wasn’t me. I didn’t make them sick. And Michael and Lindsay, Ray and Jack...”

“They’re alright,” Ryan says, grinning. “Wherever they are, they’re alright.” And Gavin looks up at him, and he’s so happy, so relieved, he smiles into the kiss Ryan leans down to give him.

“The ship leaves for England tomorrow,” the officer says quietly from the door, and Gavin looks over his shoulder at her. “We’ll come get you in the morning. You’re getting out of here.”

 

* * *

 

They have everything packed and ready to go with them when the door opens the next morning. Gavin stops Ryan from picking up his rifle, and regretfully leaves his carbine on the bed next to it, along with his pistol. “England won’t let us have these,” he murmurs, and he sees this makes Ryan just as uncomfortable as it makes him.

“Won’t need them anymore anyway,” a soldier tells them from the doorway, and even though Gavin knows this is true, the idea of going anywhere without the thing that’s kept him and Ryan safe this whole time terrifies him.

The soldier leads them out of the building and into the back of an army jeep, where another guy in similar sweatpants is already waiting. He eyes them warily, and Gavin recognises the look from the way Ryan looks at him and from the distrust he himself feels, but they all nod politely anyway, and the jeep takes off. It drives down the runway and weaves around a few buildings at the end, and then pulls up by a dock.

And Gavin is stunned to silence, because there is the ocean, and there, by the dock, is a small navy cruiser. People are moving around on deck, some of them in sweatpants and t-shirts, and some of them in navy uniforms, and it’s all so real and feels so sudden, and Gavin slips his hand into Ryan’s the moment they get out of the car.

Gavin expects the ship to be rocking on the ocean, but the water is still. They’re shown to the berthing space they’re sharing with the crew, and Gavin twists his lip to realise there’s really not a lot of space in each bunk, and he and Ryan probably won’t be able to share. He huffs, and Ryan glances at him, glances at the bunks, and chuckles.

“Hey, uh, how long does this trip to England take?” Gavin asks of the naval crew member showing them their bunks.

He shrugs. “If we don’t meet too much trouble on the way, a little over two weeks I’d say.” Gavin gapes.

“Two _weeks?_ ” he squawks. Ryan gathers him up and shoves him aside, laughing.

“Don’t mind him,” Ryan tells the confused crew member. “He gets sea sick.”

Gavin shoves him back and Ryan laughs harder. “Prick.”

But he’s smiling again, and he can’t really believe this is it, they’re actually getting out of here. The ship sounds her horn and they head back up to the deck, and sailors are pulling chains and ropes from the dock, leaving the ship free standing in the water. When the engines rumble and the cruiser starts moving, Gavin takes Ryan’s hand and pulls him to the rail to watch them sail away from the dock, and away from America, and away from Infected and guilt and grime and weariness and everything else they’d had to deal with.

Neither of them speaks until they’re clear of land and out in proper open water. Gavin squeezes his hand, and Ryan’s tighten back. “You’re staying with me, right?”

Ryan smiles back. “Always,” he murmurs, and Gavin nods thoughtfully. He thinks about having Ryan with him in England, showing him places he’d been as a kid, exploring new places together, being _safe_ , and Gavin thinks that after everything, after finally making it out, he’s not going to want anything more.

“Good,” Gavin says back. “Because I’m pretty sure I love you.”

And when Ryan leans down to kiss him, Gavin is, beyond all else, happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, just one to go (and the last one I think is actually my favourite). Thanks for sticking with me this long. :)
> 
> Also, you should absolutely have a look at [this](http://agentoakysart.tumblr.com/post/114837780633/a-drawing-for-the-freewood-fic-the-monster) really truly lovely piece of art that was drawn for this chapter by the wonderful AgentOaky / [AgentOklahoma](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentOklahoma/pseuds/AgentOklahoma) \- because god knows I'll be looking at it forever!


	7. The Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "For closure," Gavin had told him. "For closure," Ryan had agreed. And they'll remember it as the time they finally managed to climb back out of hell.

_They had ended up developing a preventative within a few months  after Gavin and Ryan settled into England. Gavin had just wanted the telly turned off, would have preferred to wait in the doctor’s office in silence. Ryan had glowered at the screen through the whole news story. “No way,” he’d said. “No fucking way did they develop it that quickly. They knew what this thing was, and it got out. Assholes.”_

_Assholes doesn’t even begin to cover it. Gavin’s name had been called and he’d taken Ryan’s hand to pull him into the consultation room with him. One of their conditions for being allowed to stay in the country had been regular check-ups and blood testing. Gavin had sat through it silently while Ryan had seethed._

_They had returned to their flat in Croydon, just a little one bedroom thing, but close enough to London that they could attend all their appointments and find jobs a little more easily._

_Within five years, the USA had been declared free of the Green Flu. About a year after that, people had become comfortable enough to start moving back. It had been slow, and towns had sprung up mostly on the east coast in the places cities used to be. Ryan had told Gavin he thought it made sense – when England had decided to colonise America, they had done it on the east coast, so it made sense that the country should start anew there as well. And the army had bombed those cities to dust, so there had been blank slate rather than old city remnants to pick around like there was in the south._

_And about another year after that, Gavin’s therapist had suggested that it might be worth a visit there as a next stage of treatment, for closure, something he had been severely lacking. Gavin had kept the idea quiet for a few weeks, until one night when he’d sunk down on the couch next to Ryan and said, “How’d you feel about an American road trip?”_

_Ryan had been hesitant at first, but he’d discussed it with his own therapist, and then had come home and agreed. For closure._

 

* * *

 

They fly into New Philadelphia, or at least, the small airstrip on the town outskirts they’re calling their international airport. There still isn’t enough interest for a lot of tourist flights to make it worth the effort or cost involved in making the airport actually legitimate. The town is nowhere near the size Philadelphia had been, Gavin isn’t convinced it ever will be, but it’s large enough that not everyone knows each other personally, and so he and Ryan don’t stick out like sore thumbs.

Ryan politely declines a discounted rate on a nearby hotel and says they aren’t staying in the area long, and instead gets directions to a car dealership. Ryan does all the talking, haggling over a used four-by-four SUV and getting a discount when the dealer nods in sympathy when Ryan explains why they’re here. “My wife is a Survivor,” the dealer says, and knocks half the cost off the car that Gavin and Ryan are paying for out of their government assistance money.

They spend the night in a little hotel in whatever town has sprung up around the remnants of Nashville on the way. Gavin flinches awake half way through when the rain starts, and checks the door peephole for any movement in the hall before he settles himself back with Ryan in bed. Ryan wakes before the sun and is jittery about eating breakfast in the hotel, and doesn’t settle until they’re on the road again.

Austin is exactly how they imagined it would be. Most of the city is overgrown rubble, and it’s only some of the outer buildings that have escaped military retribution. Gavin directs Ryan through the town and around the corner to the street he’d lived on with the Ramseys, because even after all these years he still remembers the way exactly, and then they pull up and Gavin’s hand shoots to his mouth. “Christ,” he murmurs, and throws himself out of the car, because there is the house, almost as they’d left it.

The door has been kicked in, and Gavin remembers now Geoff locking it. He and Ryan pick their way through bits of broken wood and glass, and start looking around. The kitchen, unsurprisingly, has been picked clean. Cupboards are open and the shelves are bare, and anything that had remained has long since rotted away or been torn open by raccoons and eaten. Gavin hopes the food people had taken had helped them, even just a little.

The living room has been torn apart, and it’s obvious that people had been through to find anything useful. The backs of Xbox controllers have been torn off and emptied of batteries, and it’s that kind of thing Gavin understands, because they hadn’t been so desperate as to think of them when they’d left, but people coming through would have.

Upstairs, it’s different. Much like the bedrooms he and Ryan had been through on their journey, the bedrooms here remain mostly untouched. Gavin goes into his, first. Clothing has been taken, that much he can see, but photos and pictures and DVDs, they remain. Gavin laughs in surprise when he finds the Phantom in its case, still at the back of his closet where he’d shoved it before they’d left. He asks Ryan to carry it for him while he flips through some photos on his desk and holds them tight when they leave the room.

Then he hovers outside Geoff and Griffon’s room. “Take your time,” Ryan murmurs, because he’s long since stopped suggesting Gavin doesn’t want to do something when it comes to the Ramseys, but rather just needs to psych himself into it. And Gavin swallows once, and pushes the door open to step inside.

His eyes are drawn instantly to the bedside table, because there, framed, are two photos. One is of Geoff and Griffon kissing on their wedding day. The other also has Gavin in it, and Griffon’s arms are around him, and Geoff’s arms are around them both, and they’re all three caught forever in the middle of a laugh, as family. Gavin smiles softly and picks it up, running a thumb over the glass to remove dust and get a better look. Then he picks the other up, too.

“That’s all,” he says. “This is everything I want.”

Ryan looks surprised. “Are you sure?”

Gavin nods. “Yeah. It was worth it just for these,” he says, raising the frames a little. “I’m good.”

Ryan smiles back. “Alright then. Let’s hit the road.”

 

* * *

 

_Ryan had tried to get a gun. For weeks he hadn’t been sleeping properly, waking every couple of hours with wordless cries and searching frantically in the dark for his rifle, until Gavin had been able to rouse him from his half-woken state to soothe him. “I just don’t feel safe,” he had confessed one morning. And Gavin completely understood – more than once he had panicked after patting his belt for the comforting touch of his pistol only to find nothing._

_So Ryan had tried to get one, had gone through all the right channels and processes, had cited his time as a Survivor and his English citizenship, a gift from the government as part of their welfare package for those who came to be with friends or family after they’d escaped the USA. It had been a tense fortnight, waiting for confirmation, and then when the letter came back, Ryan found he’d been denied._

_‘Mental instability’, the letter read. ‘Too high a risk of collateral during PTSD episodes’. No Survivor was getting one, likely never would. And Gavin had issues of his own to sort out, too, so he’d gone to his parents for help. They had gathered spare money, asked around the family for more, and had helped Gavin and Ryan buy their little flat, and Gavin had gone out and bought Ryan a hunting knife. It wasn’t the same, and they had both known it, but it had still helped Ryan sleep better at night with that on his bedside table._

_And in return, Ryan had gotten all of the locks changed. Gavin had simply been unable to sleep unless he’d checked each and every lock in the flat three times, and even then he had eyed the doors warily and couldn’t sleep near a window. Ryan had quickly added locks to each of the windows, too, and finally Gavin had started sleeping, though the lock check routine now took longer._

_It had been a compromise for them both, but it worked. They had their own place and if it meant they were more rested, well, so much the better._

 

* * *

 

The highways out of Austin are cracked and riddled with weeds, and the way is bumpy. Gavin still knows nothing about cars, but he grins and punches Ryan’s arm playfully when Ryan says, “See? Told you the four-by-four was worth it.” Gavin remembers walking near these roads, hearing the hum of engines as families idled on the roads, honking and yelling as they tried to flee. Gavin forces himself not to think about what might have happened to those families. All he knows is that empty cars have been bulldozed off to the roadsides like snow.

Gavin remembers this part of the trip as fairly light hearted, all things considered. It’s fairly enjoyable now, even, with Ryan turning up the car’s CD player and the two of them badly belting out clichéd songs Gavin picked before they left England. And it’s nice, this part, Ryan keeping one hand on the wheel and the other tangled with Gavin’s.

The mood sobers, though, when the cars on the side of the road thin out and Ryan slows when he sees a dilapidated sign for a gas station, and says quietly, “Isn’t that..?”

“Yeah,” Gavin breathes, and Ryan speeds up again, and sure enough it’s only a few more hours before there, on the side of the road, is a rusted station wagon. Gavin bites a knuckle. He remembers the moments around the car dying clearer than ever, how he’d woken up cuddled into Ryan and how Michael had started speaking a little, and how he’d desperately tried to ignore Ryan because he was afraid it hadn’t been the time or place.

And Gavin knows Ryan is thinking about that stuff as well, because he stops the car to pull Gavin to him across the front seat, and kiss him thoroughly.

They point things out to each other as they drive. Somewhere out that direction is where Gavin got attacked by the Infected, and where Gavin is pretty certain Geoff first got ill. That dot on the horizon might be the shed they had holed up in one night, when Jack had surprised them with gas station cookies. And then suddenly they cross a small bridge and Gavin bursts into laughter.

“Rye, Rye, stop!” Ryan does and Gavin hurls himself out of the car and runs around to drag Ryan out as well.

“What? Gav,” Ryan stammers.

“It’s our creek!” Gavin laughs, pulling him along by the hand down a slope until they’re basically standing in burbling creek water. Ryan looks around in surprise, but must see a few key features that he recognises, and makes him grin.

“Well, look at that,” Ryan drawls, and he slides his hand around Gavin’s waist to pull him in hip-to-hip, and uses his other to tilt Gavin’s head back to kiss him. It starts out sweet, as it often does with Ryan guiding, and quickly escalates when Gavin starts rolling his hips forwards and walking Ryan backwards until he’s pressed against a tree.

“Do you realise,” Gavin murmurs, nipping at Ryan’s lips, “that last time we were here, we were in the wrong place at the wrong bloody time.” Ryan hums and slips his hands to Gavin’s hips to keep them close. “Running all over the gaff. On a time limit. But not this time, Rye. So what are you going to do with me?”

And Ryan groans, and his fingertips tighten on Gavin’s hips. He drags his teeth along Gavin’s jaw to the ear, and Gavin is shivering in anticipation when Ryan, breathless, says, “I’m going to... Going to ask you to wait until El Paso,” and then he gently moves Gavin’s hips away and twists himself away from the tree and heads back to the car.

Gavin, left alone by the stream, flails his body. “What?!”

He sulks in the car, swats Ryan’s hand away when he pats his knee. Ryan laughs. “I’m not going to blow you in a _stream_ , Gavin,” he chuckles, but Gavin just huffs and crosses his arms and doesn’t speak.

And then in barely any time at all, they hit El Paso. The mood dampens as they drive through the new streets, still unpaved around clusters of houses and stores. Ryan pulls the car into the parking lot of a small motel and checks them in. Gavin is standing by the car when Ryan comes back out, wringing his hands and glancing around forlornly.

“Gav?” Ryan asks, smoothing a hand down his arm. “What’s wrong?”

Gavin bites his lip, all sexual frustration forgotten, and raises his hands helplessly. “We’ve been driving for, what? Eight hours?” he asks, looking up at Ryan through lashes. “Eight hours from Austin to here?” He sees Ryan figure it out just as he starts speaking again. “We walked for days, Rye. _Days_. Days of carrying Ray, and sleeping in dirt, and worrying about being attacked, and it took us _weeks_ to get to the airport. How is that fair?”

Ryan drops his fingers down to take Gavin’s hands in his. “It’s not,” he says. “It’s absolutely not. But we made it.”

“Most of us,” Gavin murmurs, and Ryan smiles gently and pulls him in to hug.

“Most of us.”

Their hands stay together as they walk through the new El Paso towards the bridge into Mexico. Like most of the town, the bridge had been destroyed after it had become Infected. All that remains now is a tall post and a plaque, commemorating the Infection and the refugees that passed over the bridge to escape through Mexico. Gavin thumbs the edge of the plaque and smiles, remembers Lindsay and Jack shepherding Michael and Ray over it and away into the crowds.

His smile widens into a grin. “Most of us.”

 

* * *

 

_Gavin had stumbled across the online forum completely accidentally, while he was looking up extra benefits and support provided for Survivors. Some German students had started it after one of their new friends had turned out to be a Survivor herself, and still didn’t know if her family had ever made it out. Gavin had known the second he’d lost sight of Lindsay at the border that he’d have no way of ever tracking them down again, so to find a forum designed exactly for that purpose had kind of excited him._

_He and Ryan had sat down and discussed it. “Are we prepared to find the answer?” Ryan had asked, staring at the ‘New User’ screen, and Gavin had hummed._

_“I think I am,” Gavin had told him. “Either way, I want to know. Even if it turns out... Even if we never find them, at least then I can work past that.”_

_Ryan had nodded. “Then let’s do it.” So they’d signed up._

_And for months, nothing had happened. Gavin had made some new friends online, and they had gained some extra support networks through the forums, but they’d heard nothing from any of the friends they’d lost._

_Until one day Ryan called Gavin from in the kitchen, and waved him over to the laptop. He had pointed at the screen and there, under the ‘Today’s New Members’ list, was ‘Mogar’._

_“Bloody hell,” Gavin had breathed, and had instantly clicked the name to send a message from him and Ryan. ‘LoveandStuff: Michael?’ it had read, and all they’d received back was a Skype number._

_Gavin’s heart had been in his throat when they’d dialled it, and when the call had been answered and he’d seen Lindsay’s and Michael’s faces, looking as nervous as he’d felt, one of Gavin’s hands had flown to his mouth, the other to Ryan beside him, and tears had sprung to his eyes. “Christ,” he’d said, and Ryan had given a meek little wave._

_Lindsay had burst into tears and Michael’s face beamed. “Gavin!” he’d yelled. “Motherfucker!” He’d turned and yelled off screen. “Ray! Ray! We found them! We fucking found them!” and Gavin’s trembling fingertips had reached out to touch his face on the screen._

_“My boy!” Gavin croaked, and then Ray had appeared as well, and grinned and started waving furiously._

_“Holy shit!” Ray had laughed. “Vav! Ryan! You made it!”_

_And then Gavin hadn’t been able to speak, had burst into tears to match Lindsay’s, and Ryan had been the one to have to talk, and even then all he had managed was a quiet, “Hi.”_

_So the next few days had been full of catching up, talking about what had happened and how they’d all managed, about ships to England and ships to Australia, about Ray and Michael recovering and how they liked their therapists, and seeing Jack and meeting his girlfriend from Sydney. And then Ryan had gone to bed and kissed Gavin goodnight, so that had been a huge conversation with Michael about how that had happened._

_And then one day Jack had asked, “So, where’s Geoff?” and Gavin’s face had fallen, and Ryan had shaken his head, and they hadn’t asked anything more about it._

_But they’d found each other again, and organised for Ryan and Gavin to come visit Australia, and Gavin had felt like it was another door he’d been able to finally close._

 

* * *

 

Ryan apologises for earlier by pinning Gavin’s hips down on their motel bed and slowly teasing him for an hour before he lets him come. Gavin sleepily reaches out to pull him in to kiss and slips his hand into Ryan’s jeans to help out while Ryan ruts against his thigh.

Ryan wakes him the next morning with a gentle kiss to his temple, and bundles him into the car. There’s a highway that follows the line of the train tracks, and Gavin remembers this part of their trip well. The tracks still have train cars on them, and Ryan shudders. Gavin assumes he’s remembering being attacked along here, and gently strokes his thigh reassuringly.

The closer they get to Deming, the more reserved Gavin becomes. Ryan keeps one hand on the wheel and one hand light on Gavin’s knee, squeezing gently when Gavin tenses up. It only takes an hour and a half of driving for them to arrive in Deming after leaving El Paso, and the moment they pass the welcome sign, Gavin sinks into his seat and stops talking entirely.

Deming itself is mostly untouched. The extent of the damage is from Survivors who had passed through, and nature reinvading afterwards. So it’s easy to recognise landmarks as they drive over cracked road and around wild shrubs. Gavin is torn when he sees the pharmacy Geoff and Griffon had gone into. His lips twitch a little remembering Griffon’s gift for him and Ryan, but when he thinks about Griffon and Geoff crying with each other in the back of the pharmacy, talking about being Infected and how far they were going to make it, and whether Gavin would be alright without them, his lips form into a frown.

“Ryan,” he whispers, sinking even lower into his seat and covering his eyes with his hands. “Can we go?”

And Ryan doesn’t even hesitate, just presses down on the accelerator and drives on, and murmurs a little later, “Okay, we’re gone.”

“Thanks,” Gavin says, and physically shakes himself.

“Do you want to go by the house?” Ryan asks. Gavin chews his lips, and then shrugs.

“Only if you’re interested.”

Ryan shrugs as well. “No. I think we should just move on. Give you time to prepare yourself, yeah?” Gavin nods gratefully, so Ryan steers the car out of Deming.

And here they go off-road. The scenery has changed so much that it’s hard to direct themselves. At the time, Gavin remembers, he’d been more concerned with Geoff’s health and where they’d be able to stop to pay much attention to land markers and plants. They drive slowly, and Gavin knows it can only be a few minutes out of Deming by car, so when an hour has passed he starts worrying they’ve missed it.

Then, Gavin’s hand reaches out to grab Ryan’s shirt sleeve, and he points with his other to a cluster of trees. “There,” he says, and he readjusts to be ramrod straight in his chair. “That’s it, there.”

Ryan stops the car. “Are you sure?”

Gavin nods. Even though he doesn’t remember exactly the way to get here, he remembers this spot perfectly. “I’m sure, Rye. This is it.”

Ryan nods as well, and turns off the engine. “Alright.” He unbuckles himself and turns in his chair to face Gavin, who’s staring at the trees, trembling. “Gav, I just want to make sure...” Gavin glances at him. “I just want to make sure you’re okay with this. That your hopes...”

Gavin smiles and takes his hand. “I know. I do. This is why I’m here. And I’m ready.”

So Ryan smiles and nods, and they get out of the car and walk over to the trees. Gavin is tense, eyes flicking everywhere, and then freezes when he sees them, bleached white, some scattered. Ryan watches him carefully, expecting tears, so is surprised when Gavin smiles.

“They’re still here. Thank Christ.”

“I’ll grab the shovels,” Ryan says gently, and heads back to the car to pull out shovels he’d bought in New Philadelphia. When he gets back, Gavin is gingerly moving bones aside. He looks up when Ryan holds out a shovel, and accepts it gratefully.

“I want them right under this tree,” Gavin says, pointing, and Ryan nods.

It’s grim work, grave digging. They don’t talk, the only sounds the noise of the movement of dirt, and of their own exertion. Gavin remembers the last time he was here perfectly clearly. As he digs, he can see Geoff and Griffon leaning against the tree, blood seeping through their shirts where Gavin had slid his knife into them. His hands don’t shake now like they did then, sweat dripping down his face instead of tears. And beside him, Ryan digs too.

They don’t stop digging until they’re waist-deep into the ground. Ryan climbs out and collects the bones to pass down to Gavin. Gavin gently places them in the bottom of the hole, and Ryan helps him out to shovel the dirt back in and pack it down until it’s just a tiny mound where the hole used to be.

Ryan watches as Gavin wanders around, eyes to the dirt. He walks into the dry riverbed, and kicks sandy dirt around until he kicks a rock and stumbles. “Oh! Bollocks, bollocks, bollocking heck!” he squawks, hopping. “Ryan!” he calls, waving him over. “Ryan, this one, here!”

Ryan chuckles and joins him in the riverbed, and starts kicking dirt away from the base of the rock. “You sure? The one that just half broke your toe?”

Gavin laughs. “Yeah! Geoff’d love that,” Gavin tells him. “He’d be pissing himself.”

Ryan laughs with him. “Yeah, you’re right, he would do that. Alright, here,” he says, and leans down to pull the rock out of the sand and help Gavin roll it up the bank to the grave. “Want to put anything on it?”

Gavin nods and bounds back to the car to pull out a hammer and chisel, and hurries back to get to work. In the end he only writes their names, _Geoff Ramsey, Griffon Ramsey_ , and a quick line, _Who helped us Survive_ , in jagged and messy gouges, but he stands up and stretches and smiles, and he’s proud.

He steps back to Ryan and slips their hands together. They stand there for a moment before Gavin heaves a huge contented sigh. “That’s it,” he murmurs, smiling widely. “That’s my closure.” He smiles up at Ryan. “Let’s go find yours.”

 

* * *

 

_The morning Gavin had woken up without the spectres of Geoff and Griffon hovering over him, he’d started throwing up in the bathroom and hadn’t stopped. Ryan had been jolted awake by a particularly nasty retch and desperate moan, and had gone to gently rub him on the back while he was hunched over the toilet._

_“You okay?” Ryan had asked, and Gavin had moaned again._

_“They’re gone,” Gavin had sobbed. “Griffon, Geoff, they’re gone.” And that had sent him into a new round of vomiting._

_“Oh, Gav,” Ryan had whispered. “God, I’m sorry.”_

_Ryan had fetched him water and some dry biscuits, but Gavin hadn’t been able to keep them down at all. After a while, Gavin had been able to stand up on wobbly legs and move to the couch to sit down, but every twenty minutes after that he had needed to run back to the bathroom and vomit again._

_By the end of the day, he hadn’t been able to keep any food or water down, and when nothing had changed by the next morning, Ryan had driven him to the hospital, and they’d had to set him up on fluids._

_At some point he’d heard Ryan calling his parents. “He’s going to be okay,” Ryan had murmured into the phone. “He’s on IV, we’re bringing in his psych, I’ll be with him the whole time. I’ll get him to call you when he’s up to it.”_

_But Gavin hadn’t been up to it for weeks. He had stayed in hospital for nearly a fortnight, either unable to or refusing to eat, stuck on drip feeding to stop him throwing everything back up. After a week the random vomiting had stopped, and Gavin had started talking to his therapist, and daily visits had continued at his flat for awhile._

_It had been the empty feeling the Ramseys had left that made him listen when his therapist suggested the trip to America._

 

* * *

 

Gavin wants nothing more than to joke and laugh with Ryan, maybe tease him until he agrees to have sex in the back seat of the car, but he also knows this is the worst time. Ryan falls completely silent as they drive away from the Ramsey grave, and Gavin watches him sink into a darker mood until he’s just glaring out the windshield as they drive. For awhile, Gavin glances around at the scenery since he doesn’t remember any part of this leg of the journey, but when Ryan sees him and his fingers clench on the wheel, Gavin stops.

After nearly an hour and a half of driving, Gavin decides he needs to do something. Ryan has been nothing but supportive and helpful with his issues, Gavin thinks, and if he can do anything for Ryan in return, he will. So hesitantly, Gavin moves his hand over Ryan’s on the wheel, and captures it when Ryan tries to jerk it away.

“Gavin,” Ryan grits out. “Not... Not here.”

“I know. I do,” Gavin replies, and squeezes his hand when Ryan opens his mouth to argue. “Let me drive to Phoenix.”

Ryan takes a deep breath and sighs it out. “Gav, you’re not covered on the insurance here. You’ve had your license for less than a year...”

“But I’ve had loads of practice.”

Ryan chews his lip, and then surprises Gavin with a small laugh as he pulls over on the side of the road, and gets out. Gavin clambers into the driver’s seat, and Ryan is smiling when he opens the passenger door to get in. “Thanks, Gav,” he says quietly, putting on his seatbelt and twisting his hands in his lap.

Gavin shrugs and goes through the process of setting the mirrors up for himself. “Well, you know. Am I good?”

Ryan glances at his hand position, seatbelt and mirrors. “Yeah, you’re good,” he answers, and Gavin pulls back onto the highway. They drive quietly for awhile, with only a few comments from Ryan to Gavin, “Straighten up a little, easy on the gas, you’re turning a little sharp, slow it down,” until finally Ryan says again, “Really. Thank you.”

Gavin just nods, and glances in the rear view mirror, even though he knows no one is behind them. “Would it... Would it help for us to talk about it?”

Ryan sighs and looks out his window. “I don’t know. I’ve thought about it, but I don’t want it to hurt you.”

Gavin shoots a smile at him. “This part isn’t about me, Rye, this is about you.” But Ryan shakes his head.

“No, Gav. This part was all about you.” And Gavin can see Ryan trembling, because he’s still angry about it, and Gavin doesn’t blame him. “It was about trying to get you to safety because you either couldn’t or wouldn’t do it yourself. And for most of this trip, I can point out places and remember the things we did there, but along here...” He pauses for awhile and Gavin doesn’t talk, just waits. “I mean, you know what this did to me.”

Gavin does know. If Ryan is really tired at home and falls asleep, he still wakes up screaming. Gavin has received more than a dozen bruises over the years from Ryan struggling when Gavin has tried to soothe him, he more than knows what this has done to Ryan.

“And God, Gav, when it got real bad... I... I actually thought about leaving you.”

Now Gavin understands why Ryan didn’t want to talk about it. He takes a deep breath. “But you didn’t.”

“No, God no, I don’t think I would have _done it_ , but I _thought about it_ , Gav. I thought about leaving you to die, Christ, what kind of monster--”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Gavin interrupts. “Rye, no, Christ, no.” He taps his fingers restlessly on the wheel. “None of that was your fault.”

“It also wasn’t yours, but fuck, Gavin, at the time...”

“I know. I do. Ryan, we both have a lot of guilt about, well, pretty much every bloody thing that happened here. And I don’t mind if it takes you a week or a year or forever to move past it, or if you never do, but... I’d like that?” Gavin glances at him. “I’d like to know if I can help? If there’s anything I can do that make it better, make what happened _better_...”

Ryan smiles and looks away from the window at him. “No, no. This is perfect. Thank you.”

And Gavin smiles too. “You’re welcome.”

It only takes a couple more hours to arrive in Phoenix. The city looks even better than New Philadelphia, the cafes on the main street full of people enjoying late lunches while Gavin drives through the town to their hotel. “It’s so different,” Ryan murmurs when they’ve checked in and start walking through the streets. “None of these buildings... These are all new. I don’t recognise any of this.”

Gavin looks around, but he doesn’t remember this at all. The only part of Phoenix Gavin remembers is blurred streets and fear and then fighting with Ryan in the safe room. Ryan looks around somewhat hopelessly, leading Gavin through streets neither of them know, until Ryan looks at a street sign and pauses. “Jesus, do you think..? The names...” And then he grabs Gavin’s hand and turns, leading him around corners and down paths around new shops and houses and businesses that still haven’t quite taken off, and then at the end of one, Ryan stops and his whole body slumps.

The warehouse is gone, and there’s just an empty lot with rubble and overgrown bushes in its place. Ryan doesn’t speak, but his breathing is shallow and his face is scrunched, and Gavin recognises that look, knows it means Ryan is holding back frustrated tears. And Gavin doesn’t really know what to do, but he knows this was important, this building, and it’s unfair for him to get his closure and for Ryan not to get his. He does the only thing he can think of, and pulls Ryan in and wraps his arms around him.

Ryan melts his body to Gavin’s gratefully, and moments later Gavin feels tears soak through his shirt into his shoulder. “I just... I needed this,” Ryan sobs. “I needed to see it and see you there and know I did everything I could.” Gavin holds him tight until Ryan stops crying and pulls himself away.

“Hey,” Gavin murmurs, and Ryan looks at him. Gavin spreads his arms wide and moves to stand in front of the metal fence outlining where the warehouse front wall used to be. Gavin grins, arms still wide, and Ryan looks confused for a moment. “Look at me. Look at _us_ , look at where we are now.” Ryan looks around, and Gavin laughs. “No, I mean, where we are with each other. We wouldn’t _be_ _here_ if it weren’t for you.”

Slowly, Ryan smiles. “Yeah?”

Gavin nods. “Yeah. We wouldn’t have made the decision to come back if it weren’t for you. We wouldn’t have made it to L.A. if it weren’t for you pushing forwards, pushing _me_ forwards, supporting me when I needed it and leaving me alone when I needed that instead. We wouldn’t have made it to Phoenix if you hadn’t kept going, and no matter how much you might have wanted to stop you _didn’t_ , you got us both here. Christ, Ryan, we wouldn’t even have been together if you hadn’t cornered me at our creek, because I’m a toe-rag, remember?”

Ryan laughs softly, because he does. “You are.”

“Oi!” Gavin says, but he’s laughing now too. “Ryan Haywood, _you_ are the reason we’re here. You did everything you could. Christ, I think you did more.” Gavin walks back over to him and takes his hands. “I know this wasn’t what you wanted. I’m sorry, I really am. And me being the bloke to tell you this probably means nothing, but you should know it. I don’t blame you for anything you thought about doing, or did, and I wouldn’t have anyway. And I am still completely in bloody love with you.”

And Ryan leans in and kisses him fiercely.

 

* * *

 

_Neither of them had really noticed it at first. It had started when Ryan had crawled over the bed to straddle Gavin’s lap while he had been sitting and watching the telly. Ryan had kissed his jaw and started undoing buttons on Gavin’s shirt, and Gavin had lifted his hands to gently push Ryan’s away. “Not tonight, Rye,” Gavin had said, and Ryan had paused but said, “Okay,” and crawled off._

_The next time, Ryan had pressed him against the door after they’d returned from dinner, kissing him with teeth and tongue. Gavin had kissed him back for a moment before he’d sighed and wriggled away. “Sorry,” Gavin had said, looking away. “I don’t really feel like it tonight.”_

_“Is everything okay?” Ryan had asked, full of concern, but Gavin had just nodded, and that had been it._

_After weeks of getting no further than a few kisses and once when Gavin had given Ryan a hand job and then rolled over to sleep, Ryan had started getting frustrated. Then finally one night he had cornered Gavin in the bedroom and had confronted him. “Why don’t you want to have sex with me?”_

_Gavin had scrunched his face up. “What?”_

_“We haven’t had sex in weeks. What gives? Have I done something? What’s wrong?”_

_Gavin had rolled his eyes, and instantly regretted it because by that point he had known Ryan recognised that as the brush off it was. “Come off it,” he’d said anyway. “Nothing is wrong, I just haven’t felt like it.”_

_“If I asked you tonight, though, you’d still say no.”_

_“Would not,” Gavin had argued. “Try me.”_

_So Ryan had kissed him, pulled him to the bed, and Gavin had let him, had even gotten involved himself as if trying to prove he was interested. But afterwards, lying in bed, Ryan had sighed. “So, that was...”_

_“Alright,” Gavin had finished, and they’d rolled away from each other and hadn’t said anything more about it._

_But then they had started fighting, and that had led them to avoiding each other, until Gavin had started spending more nights away with friends he’d known before moving to the U.S._

_It had been Ryan who had suggested it, in the end. It had been three days since Gavin had been home, and Ryan had called him into the kitchen when he’d arrived back. Gavin had walked in to see Ryan sitting at the table, hands clenched and lip bloody where he’d been chewing it. Gavin had sat down on the table’s other side. “We’re not okay,” Ryan had said, and Gavin had looked away. “You know we’re not okay.”_

_“Are you... Are you leaving me?” Gavin had asked, voice trembling._

_“Do you want me to?”_

_“No, Christ no,” Gavin had answered immediately. Ryan had nodded slowly, and then slid a brochure across the table. Gavin had looked down at it. “Couples counselling?” he’d asked, a little incredulously. “Really?” But Ryan had been quietly determined, so Gavin had nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”_

_“It’s not uncommon,” the counsellor had told them. “Two people go through something difficult,” and that had been the understatement of the century, Gavin had thought, “and then when it calms down, the adrenalin and the necessity fades and a relationship doesn’t feel right anymore.”_

_“Can we fix it?” Gavin had asked, and the counsellor had smiled._

_“Of course. Often it just takes you reminding yourself of your feelings. Gavin, do you still love Ryan?”_

_Gavin had looked at Ryan next to him on the couch, and smiled. “I’d be a damn idiot not to,” he’d murmured._

_“Ryan?”_

_“Yes. Desperately,” Ryan had answered._

_“Then you’re going to be fine.”_

 

* * *

 

Gavin sleeps in until nearly midday when Ryan finally pulls the sheets off the bed and drags Gavin onto the floor with them. Gavin wakes with a squawk and Ryan doesn’t stop chuckling at his desperate flails until Gavin finally untangles himself and surges to his feet to kiss him. The mood is lighter than it has been all trip, and they’re back to driving with the windows down and singing songs from Gavin’s CD loudly and out of tune, grinning and laughing at each other.

After a few hours Ryan turns the music down and starts giving Gavin a history lesson on America that Gavin doesn’t believe a single word of, because there’s no way Abraham Lincoln was a wrestler, no matter how much Ryan laughs and insists. Gavin counters with facts about England, except Ryan sees through every single fake one and seems to already know all the real ones, and Gavin eventually gives up in favour of asking him stupid questions.

It doesn’t work so well now that Gavin is actually willing to hand out blow jobs to him.

It’s another short leg from Phoenix to L.A., the end of a journey that took them three days in total from New Philadelphia only because this time there was no real rush and they could stop where they want. Gavin drives the car across the city line in the new Los Angeles when the sun is only just starting to set, and it’s barely dark when they check into their motel only a few miles from the airport. They buy Chinese food from a little store around the corner and sit on the bed together eating it and watching old _Simpsons_ reruns and arguing about who probably has the rights to the show now.

They sleep soundly and wake slowly, and check out of the motel with a few hours left before their flights. Ryan sells the car back to a second-hand dealer for almost no loss at all and they arrive at the airport two hours before check in. It gives them enough time to walk the metal fence and stare up at the watchtowers and huge gate that they remember all too well, preserved here as part of a memorial to the airport that had reportedly gotten the most Survivors out.

The buildings Gavin and Ryan had been quarantined in still stand as they were. Gavin remembers the fear he’d felt seeing Ryan stare down a gun, and the hesitant hope he’d felt when they’d showered and slept in a real bed and finally been told they were getting out. They spend too long standing and looking at this last part of their trip, and almost miss the call for boarding.

Ryan leans over him in his seat when their plane takes off, and they can see the dock where they’d finally boarded the ship and gotten out of the country. Gavin pulls his face in to gently kiss his lips, and Ryan smiles widely. “I’m glad we did this,” Ryan says, and Gavin grins and kisses him again.

“How was it?” Lindsay asks over Skype the next week. She and Michael are debating doing something similar, except Mexico’s roads haven’t been completely cleaned up yet.

Gavin nods. “Yeah, it was pretty top,” he tells them.

“Laborious,” Ryan chimes in from the couch, laughing when Gavin turns and throws a cushion at him. “But good.”

“It _was_ hard,” Gavin agrees, watching Michael nod on the computer screen. “But it was really helpful, I think. We’re sleeping better already.”

“And how are you guys doing?” Michael asks as Ryan stands up and walks over to the computer.

He leans in frame and kisses Gavin on the corner of his mouth, whispers, “Come to bed,” and walks out again, leaving Gavin red.

“Bloody hell,” Gavin murmurs, looking after him. He jolts back to face the screen and Lindsay’s grin. “We’re doing great,” he tells them, and barely manages to say goodbye before he ends the call and bounds from the chair to meet Ryan in the bedroom.

They’re doing great.

 

_\- End -_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! That's the end!
> 
> Thank you everyone who stuck with me, who commented and left kudos, or even just clicked on the title once for a look, because every single one kept me going. This is the longest thing I've ever finished, and by far the longest thing I've ever published. If I can be honest, although I started this fic for Gavin telling Ryan he'd take him into the zombie apocalypse, I finished it for this final chapter. I think it's my favourite.
> 
> So I hope this long epilogue satisfies as the end. :)


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